


Serendipity

by ken_ji



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Awkward Dates, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Dark, Drugs, FBI, Guns, Human Trafficking, Injury, Kidnapping, Love, M/M, Minor Character Death, Panic Attacks, Party, Permanent Injury, Physical Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Seizures, Weapons, scary shit, shady money
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:47:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 45,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22264339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ken_ji/pseuds/ken_ji
Summary: Taking place in New York, Bokuto and Kuroo are after a criminal of the highest ranks they have seen in their lives. They're eager and filled with rage. They know what they're after, and they won't stop until they've tasted the bitterness of revenge.For Bokuto, everything was straightforward before Akaashi.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 19
Kudos: 59





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome. Please enjoy, I'm not a pro. I'm open to hearing suggestions and corrections. Feedback is much appreciated.  
> thank u :)

At 6:38 am Akaashi woke up in a panic to the sound of an emergency vehicle blaring outside his window, his eyes widening in an attempt to peek out from under his thin auburn blanket as to see what was happening. He waited a minute, and slowly started to sit up, looking out his window to spot an ambulance with its red and white lights flashing in the early morning dew. The loud alarms soon stopped, and Akaashi took note of the dampness in the air, a light cool breeze from outside his slightly cracked open window touching his skin as he felt autumn nearing. Soon enough, he heard multiple large and heavy steps thumping and the rattling of wheels down the hallway of his condo floor, just on the other side of the doorway and as he grabbed his phone, he got up to peer through the hole in the door.  
Dialling the number of his roommate, Akaashi strained his right eye to look at what the commotion was all about.

The phone rang twice, and he heard panting on the other line.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” Akaashi’s voice came out low and raspy.

“The gym, why, what’s up?”

“There’s an ambulance here, I thought I should call you, just in case- do you think it’s-” Akaashi began to panic as he thought of the possibility.

“An ambulance? At the condo? …I’m on my way back right now. If it’s… if it is what I- what we fear, I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

“...” Akaashi gasped quietly when he saw who was being pulled out of the room on a stretcher. He unlocked his door and opened it to stand in the doorway, shocked, and forgetting he was on the phone.

“Akaashi?”

“Kageyama, it’s… Hinata…” Akaashi’s breath hitched as he waited for a response. “Kageyama?”

“I’m coming.”

Kageyama hung up after that, and Akaashi walked out of the room. He closed the door to follow the paramedics with Hinata on the stretcher.

“Stay back, please.” said one of the paramedics as she pushed the stretcher quickly.  
“I’m a close friend, please let me stay by his side.” Akaashi pleaded. The paramedic nodded, and Akaashi followed them closely behind as they made their way to the ambulance.

Although he wasn’t particularly close with Hinata, he wanted to be there for him, and for Kageyama. On the way to the hospital, Akaashi held Hinata’s hand to let him know he wasn’t alone, and stayed silent as he worried for the well-being of his friend. Hinata’s face was pale and he was unconscious, his breathing ragged and pained. He had been turned on his side and fluid was leaking out of his mouth. When they arrived at the hospital, Akaashi trailed behind the stretcher as far as he could, until the doctors asked him to patiently wait in the waiting room. Akaashi watched as every minute ticked by, silently waiting for Kageyama to rush in. 6 minutes passed by and Kageyama ran in just as predicted, eyeing Akaashi immediately. His arms, neck and face were covered in sweat. His dampened hair stuck to his skin, and Akaashi could tell he had let a few tears fall; the skin around his eyes was slightly puffed up.

“I got here as fast as I could. What happened? Where is he now?!” Kageyama spat out, clearly in a panic.

“As far as I know, he had another seizure of some sort. That’s what I overheard the paramedics say. We can’t go in and see him yet.”

“Shit! …Akaashi, what room number?”

“... Kageyama, we can’t go in yet. Whatever you’re thinking, please stop it.”

“Akaashi.” Kageyama’s face was stern as he grabbed hold of Akaashi’s arms. His calloused fingers dug into his  
shoulders painfully. “What room number is Hinata in? Please tell me.”

“Kageyama, I ca-”  
“Akaashi” Kageyama yelled out, squeezing his arms even tighter. Akaashi winced in pain, trying to free himself.

Multiple heads turned as the scene became more aggressive.

“Kageyama, what the shit, let go, I- I think it was room- room 410,” Akaashi managed to pull himself out of  
Kageyama’s grasp, and watched him disappear into the corridors of the brightly lit hospital.

“Kageyama! Agh- moron.” It was useless; Kageyama was madly in love with Hinata and vice versa, yet this wasn’t the first time Hinata had a seizure; in the past 4 months, Hinata had suffered from constant nightmares, and 3 seizures now. Every time, Kageyama ran in, yelling and throwing a tantrum like a child. Every time, he could hear the utter pain in Kageyama’s voice as he was held back by numerous nurses and hospital employees. Every time, Akaashi would have to go and calm his friend down and tell him that ‘All we can do right now is wait. He’ll be okay.’  
Half an hour had passed when the doctor finally came out of the room and went up to Akaashi to inform him of Hinata’s state. Kageyama stood up as soon as he heard the doctor’s footsteps.

“Is Hinata okay? Can I see him now?” he asked eagerly

“I’m sorry, what is your relation to the patient?” the doctor curiously pondered.

“I’m his boyfriend.”

The doctor nodded and began to speak to both boys with empathetic eyes.

“He is stable and should be okay as long as he rests. He must have hit his head hard when he seized, probably knocked it on the corner of a piece of furniture. We are currently unsure of the cause, but we plan on running a few tests when he is better. Although, we’ve noticed some signs of previous seizures, which is concerning since seizures can cause serious permanent damage. He’s extremely lucky to be safe and healthy. I do need some recent background information on him, so when he is feeling up to it, just let one of the nurses know so they can assess him. We also want to stress the importance of contacting his family doctor immediately, so once he’s had details filled out, we’re going to ask for his doctor and clinic location to speak with his doctor for him so we can get this sorted out ASAP.” the doctor finished. There was a pause to take all the new information in. Both boys nodded.  
“Is he… can I please see him?” Kageyama asked quietly as his bottom lip quivered. Akaashi put a comforting hand on his shoulder blade as the doctor nodded and lead him to the room. Akaashi followed Kageyama a little farther behind, and then allowed for the couple to talk before joining. Akaashi waited outside the bedroom door for a few minutes until he heard his name from inside the room.

“Yeah, Akaashi is here too.”

“Well, call him already, dummy!”

“You’re the dummy, dummy,” Kageyama grumbled. Akaashi heard footsteps and quickly ran to a nearby water  
fountain to make sure Kageyama didn’t think he was trying to eavesdrop.

“Hey man, he’s good, you coming?” Kageyama asked, poking his head out of the room. Akaashi nodded and ran over.

Akaashi tried not to show any of the shock he felt when he saw Hinata’s current state; a nasty, purple fist-sized bruise was forming on the left side of his head, Akaashi could see it covered part of his eye and followed onto his skull, covered by hair. He also had an IV bag attached to his arm.

“Hey, Hinata, how are y-”

“Before you ask me how I’m feeling, how are YOU feeling, Akaashi?” Hinata giggled. Kageyama sighed and Akaashi just stared at Hinata, trying to read him.

“Fine, thanks. A little sore, since Kageyama over here nearly ripped my arms off my body worrying about you.” Akaashi stated sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood. Hinata gasped and threw a pillow at Kageyama, who caught it quickly.

“Kageyama, you toe!”

“Shut up, you’re a toe! A stinky toe!”

The two continued their bickering until Akaashi found himself falling asleep in his chair. He woke up to his phone vibrating in his pocket less than 3 hours later.

CALLER: Tooru, Oikawa

Yawning, Akaashi answered the phone, mentally preparing himself for whoever was calling him. “Hi.”

“Bitch, where the frick frack snic snack tic tac are you?! Class is about to start, I bought you that gross veggie smoothie that you like! What happened to ‘You should be here early, blah blah blah’?!”  
Akaashi checked his phone and groaned at the time that read 9:49 a.m. Class starts at 10:10 a.m.

“Shit, I’m on my way.”

“Run bitch, RUN!!”

“Bye, Tooru”

“Okay, bye bye! Love y-” Akaashi cut him off before he could finish his sentence and got up to catch the free public transport bus. Akaashi cursed himself when he realized he didn’t bring any money for Uber, and he didn’t lock the condo door. He was going to be late, but when he really thought about it, it didn’t matter, considering the morning’s events. He let out a stressful sigh and, before leaving, smiled at the view that was Kageyama and Hinata asleep on the bed, fingers tangled together as they breathed peacefully.  
On the very overcrowded bus, Akaashi sent Kageyama a quick message saying he had to go to class, but to please update him on any news on Hinata. Putting away his phone, he reached out to a nearby pole (which he could only see the top of because of the bodies all so squished together that he could barely see), and nearly went flying as the bus jerked into motion. Tripping over multiple legs, Akaashi grabbed onto anything he could, and felt a hand grab him back. A few people looked at him in annoyance and he apologized, feeling his arm being pulled to a seperate pole. He looked at who it was, and managed to mumble out a ‘thank you.’ The tall, bulky man wore a tight black tee with long black sweats, 2 blue stripes going down each side. His black and gray hair was gelled up, his golden eyes bore into Akaashi’s, and he was smiling with slight humour. Although Akaashi didn’t notice all these specific details, he did take note of how incredibly muscular this guy was, seriously, he was wearing baggy clothing and you could still see his massive shoulders. An absolute unit, this guy. Probably lived at the gym and drink nothing but protein-filled smoothies. The man didn’t say anything, and Akaashi watched as the stranger, among many other passengers, exited the bus at the next stop.

-

Akaashi was usually a very organized person; he kept his papers in the correct binders or folders, made sure they were all dated, and even kept the subjects colour coded. So far, two years into his undergrad, he had not missed a single class nor had he been late. This morning, Akaashi was very unorganized. He didn’t eat, didn’t brush his teeth, didn’t even change out of his pyjamas. He bolted into his room, grabbing the first sweater he could find (Kageyama’s, since Kageyama rarely put his clothes in his closet), grabbed his backpack, wallet, phone and keys and sprinted to the bus stop. He discreetly walked into his class at 10:32 am, whispering out a “good morning” to his prof and went up the stairs to take his seat next to Oikawa, who was chuckling. Luckily, the prof was also late, having arrived just 5 minutes before Akaashi did, so class was just starting.

“What’s up? You’re never late. Did you have a good night, like a really good night, better than usual?” Oikawa smirked. Akaashi took his things out, avoiding Oikawa’s stare.

“Hinata is in the hospital,” he quietly replied.

“... Again?”

-

After class had ended, Akaashi walked with Oikawa across campus to get lunch. Sitting down, he called Kageyama. He didn’t pick up, so he sent him another message asking how they were doing, as well he was going to stop by to see Hinata later on.

“So get this,” Oikawa began. “Iwa-chan’s mom posted a photo on Facebook, right.”

“Okay,” Akaashi responded, waiting for him to continue. As he finished typing out the message to Kageyama, Akaashi thought to himself, wondering why Oikawa still uses Facebook.

“It was a photo of his parents with his little siblings, and the caption said: ‘Just a happy family of four, picking apples before it gets too cold out! #Brr!’” Oikawa finished in a mocking tone.

“So?”

“So?! She obviously said that on purpose, Akaashi, you know she blatantly left him out. I mean, he has two little siblings and two parents, and she said family of four. Uh, hello, last time I checked, two and two don’t equal five.”  
Then it clicked, Akaashi had forgotten that Iwaizumi had been kicked out of his house when he was 17 because of his sexual orientation.

“Oh, right. When’s the last time you, or Iwaizumi, have seen his mom?”

“Like, two years ago, a year after we started dating. His family and my family came over for New Years to meet each other, and it was a bitch of a mess. Honestly Kei-chan, it was a real life drama movie, like you remember that scene in Shrek 2 where-”

“Yes, I got it, one side homophobic, the other side not. So, what, his mom isn’t even acknowledging him as a family member anymore? That’s pretty fucked up.”

“Exactly! So I went to Iwa-chan and bitched about it to him, and you know what he did?! He grunted and said, in his deep-scary-bored manly voice, ‘I’m gonna shower.’ and left! Ugh, I’m more pissed off than he is.” Oikawa huffed.

“Come on Oikawa, you should have seen through his wall, obviously he’s totally hurt by it, but you know him better than anyone, he doesn’t want to worry or sadden you. You’re literally his top priority, above anyone or anything else.”

“Oh and since when are you a therapist, ‘Dr. Akaashi’?”

“Excuse me for being a good person.”

Oikawa sighed, “No I know he’s bottling it up because that’s how he always is when it comes to serious stuff. But I just wish he could yell or scream or cry about something for once, he makes it seem like he doesn’t even care that his mom hates him or that his siblings are being raised homophobic, Christ, these kids are 12 and 13 now and they’re being told to hate their brother that they looked up to, all because he likes dick! And vagina! Why doesn’t he show any emotions to that!”

“... Maybe because you do. You do all the screaming for him. Just be patient.” Akaashi said, opening his salad.

“Easy for you to say, you haven’t sucked anyone’s dick in like a thousand years. You don’t know what it’s like.”  
Akaashi stopped eating his food and stared coldly at Oikawa, who was staring at his phone in his hand.

“Wow, was that really necessary?”

Oikawa looked up at him, and sighed again. “I’m sorry, boo, you didn’t deserve that. I know you still miss him.”  
“Please, Oikawa, don’t bring him up.” Akaashi stared at Oikawa, and then continued to eat his salad silently.

“So, what’s going on with Shrimp-chan?”

“Hm? Well, I’ve told you before, Kageyama said he’s still getting recurring nightmares.”

“Of what?”

Akaashi paused to think before continuing,“Actually… now that I think about it, it might not be just nightmares; they’re probably mixed in with memories… of what happened. Kageyama says Hinata hasn’t been eating or sleeping well, and he’s been stressed with school. Kageyama’s gonna go bald within the next year with the amount he stresses over that kid. But, like, who can blame him, right?”

“Sure, but, what even… happened? All I’ve been told is that Shrimp-chan suddenly disappeared for, like, 4 days and when he came back, he was all messed up” Oikawa stated.

“He was found, he didn’t come back on his own.”

“Found by who? The police?”

“Well, yeah… You know Kageyama’s father, he’s a cop, so Hinata… got lucky…”

“Where did Hinata go? Lucky how?” Oikawa kept poking at the subject, and Akaashi knew he wouldn’t stop this time.  
Akaashi looked at Oikawa, sighed, and decided to share what he knew.

“This is what I know from Kageyama, and stuff I’ve pieced together myself. Also, you have to keep this on the down-low. Four months ago, in late May, Hinata… was kidnapped. I remember Kageyama telling me that he went out at night with his little sister to grab ice cream, they’d done it before, so he didn’t see any harm in it. Being a ‘big brother’ and all, he must have believed in his ability to protect himself and Natsu. My guess is they got jumped and Natsu managed to escape somehow, but Hinata was gone by the time others arrived to search for him. Of course, a missing person’s report was sent out as soon as his little sister got in contact with the police, or Kageyama, or whoever. That’s how Kageyama’s dad got involved like the next day, and he requested a specific team of officers to help with the search. If it hadn’t been for Officer Kageyama, who knows where Hinata would be right now.  
Remember how many people from our school got involved? I was kind of shocked; New York has all kinds of crime going on all the time, so I half expected people to shrug it off and just assume that he ran away. Anyway, all I know is that he was found 4 days later by the riverside, petrified, traumatized, starving and practically naked. I imagine he looked like a wild animal.”

Oikawa stared at Akaashi with large eyes and his breath stilled before he asked another question, “Wow, okay, that’s insane, but do you know what actually happened to him? Like, who kidnapped him and why?”

“... Kageyama hasn’t told me much, and I don’t want to pry it out of Hinata. What I do know is that it was some form of… human organ trafficking. I overheard Officer Kageyama mention it. I have no clue how he escaped or where or who it was, and I don’t think he’s been of much help to the police either, because any time it’s brought up, Hinata freaks out, understandably. Whatever happened to him, he’s been on heavy medication because of it and rarely leaves Kageyama’s side. Kageyama said he barrs up his bedroom door with a chair every night, even though Hinata only has one roommate; Lev. Lev’s out of state currently, though. Hinata’s messed up now, and I’m positive the seizures are related to this somehow.”  
Oikawa stared at Akaashi, speechless, unsure of what to say. “I- Trafficking? Holy shit, Akaashi! I thought the kid had run away or something. Oh my god, I don’t know what to say… How did he call the ambulance? If Lev’s out of state?” Oikawa stated.

“I, uh… I guess he felt the seizure coming? Had 911 on speed dial or something? Anyway, that’s pretty much all I know. Kageyama doesn’t talk about it often. I’m gonna visit Hinata tonight, if you wanna tag along. He apparently has to get a bunch of tests done to figure out why he keeps seizing. Today marks the third seizure.”

Oikawa nodded. Although he and Kageyama had had a falling out 3 years ago, they agreed to try and set that aside and to move on. Of course, now that Akaashi was rooming with Kageyama and became friends with Oikawa in his first year, he kind of got stuck in the middle. He’d known Kageyama since high school, but Akaashi was completely caught off guard when he found out that they both knew each other. There was still some tension between the two and Akaashi didn’t want to have to choose one or the other, he found it stupid and unfair. Luckily, the two tried to be mature about it, for Akaashi’s sake.

-

Akaashi walked out of the shower, started brushing his teeth, towel wrapped around his chest as his music played on shuffle quietly. He chose to wear a simple outfit consisting of blue skinny jeans and a plain black hoodie. It was 4:30 pm and Kageyama had not come back from the hospital, presumably choosing to stay with Hinata the whole day. Akaashi sighed as he thought of the long day they must have endured at the busy hospital, packed with people, waiting for results, one test after another. Akaashi looked at himself in the mirror and took notice of the small succulent that decorated the washroom, and thought of getting Hinata flowers. As if on queue, Akaashi’s phone began to vibrate as soon as he reached out for it.

CALLER: Tooru, Oikawa

“Hey,” Akaashi answered.

“You ready? I brought Iwa-chan by the way. Iwa-chan say ‘Hiiiii!!’” Oikawa said in a sing-song voice.

“Go awayyyyy, Trashy-kawa,” Iwaizumi responded in the same sing-song voice.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Akaashi cut in.

“Wow, Akaashi, you sound bored. Kk, see you soon, byee!”

Akaashi grabbed a small bag with his and Kageyama’s things, and after stopping at a floral shop, Oikawa, Iwaizumi and Akaashi made it to the hospital. The group then talked amongst themselves, and Akaashi watched them act as if nothing had happened that morning, as if they weren’t in the hospital right now because the most optimistic, most hyper person of their group had seized, had nearly died, again. He could tell that what he told Oikawa about Hinata was bugging him, but Oikawa knew how to put up a good act when he had to.

Akaashi thought back to the day Kageyama broke down and told him pieces of what had happened to Hinata. It was after the second seizure, 2 months ago. Akaashi had been led to believe that the first seizure was completely random and by chance, but after questioning Kageyama about it, he admitted that he didn’t know why he had seized, that the ER doctor’s chalked it up to another freak accident, related to trauma as a sort of ‘after effect,’ resulting from PTSD. He then started to open up about how this whole issue had been driving him up the wall; his lover had gone through something so traumatic and Kageyama didn’t know how to help him. They talked for hours, and it left Akaashi in distress, to say the least. It made sense to him that PTSD could cause a seizure, but after the third time in 3 months, professionals were finally deciding to do something about it, to see if there was more to it.  
2 hours later, Hinata and Kageyama had a chat with the doctor, and Hinata was released from the hospital. Kageyama had brought the car when he rushed over in the morning, so Hinata, Akaashi and Kageyama said their goodbyes to Iwaizumi and Oikawa.

-

“Hey man, I’m staying the night at Sho’s, okay?” Kageyama stated, pointing down the hall.

“Sure. … Kageyama, if I may ask, what did the doctor say?” Akaashi asked. Kageyama sighed and looked at the floor before looking back up at Akaashi.

“Seems as though the medication he was given to help with trauma was way too strong, his body had a really negative reaction to it. I guess it was too much. New medication should be coming in in a few days.”

“Oh… It’s a relief that they figured out what was going on.”

“You’re telling me, I don’t know why they didn’t do those tests after the first seizure. Anyway, good night. See you tomorrow,” Kageyama waved off. Akaashi nodded and replied with a soft ‘good-night,’ and prepared his things for the next day. He ended up staying up until 2am, trying to catch up with his work as he didn’t want to fall behind.

The next few days Akaashi had barely seen Kageyama. He knew he was better off with Hinata, and vice versa, but Akaashi had begun to feel lonely yet again. Both Kageyama and Akaashi weren’t particularly loud or talkative roommates, but Akaashi did like the company. He knew that Kageyama would only be popping in for a few things; a change of clothes, his work, a blanket, etc. Akaashi was aware of how the next two days would go, because the last two times Hinata was in the hospital, Kageyama would stay a day or two in Hinata’s unit.

On the fourth day, Akaashi could feel the boredom getting to him. This was rare, since he was usually busy with school work or his bartending job. It was a Thursday afternoon and Akaashi would have to get ready to go to work in 3 hours. He felt the soreness on his back reaching to his butt, and stretched. He looked around and decided to get cleaning. It was about time he washed his bed sheets, anyway.

Two hours came and went by in the blink of an eye, and Akaashi turned the vacuum cleaner off as he wiped the sweat from his brow, and eyed the clock hanging above his desk. It read 5:52 pm. He quickly put the vacuum cleaner in the laundry room, turned on the dryer, and finished ironing his work clothes. Draping it off his bed, he made his way to the washroom before hearing the front door unlock.

“Hey man, it’s me, just here for a change of clothes,” Kageyama called out.

Akaashi popped quickly out of the washroom and into the kitchen to see Kageyama, and Hinata strolling over to the bedroom. “Hey Kageyama, how you been? ” Akaashi greeted. He watched as Hinata waved to him and then sauntered into the bedroom, making himself comfortable on Kageyama’s bottom bunk. “Not bad, thanks. We bought some groceries… for you.” Kageyama replied, setting the bags on the island.

“For me? I take it you won’t be back here for a while, then?” Akaashi asked, taking the contents of the bags and placing them in their correct locations. Akaashi watched his friend nod, and with a stressed look on Kageyama’s face, he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair before speaking again.

“I’m worried. We got lucky last time that he was able to call an ambulance, but Lev is still out of town and I… don’t want to risk anything,” Kageyama explained quietly.

Akaashi looked at his friend, and then to Hinata, who was in the bedroom next door, blasting music and playing the air guitar. He wanted to tell Kageyama that he can’t afford to fall behind in his studies, that he should come back as soon as possible so he can keep up with school. Yet, how could Akaashi argue with him? The love of his life has nearly died four times within the past 6 months, Kageyama’s way beyond school right now.

What would Akaashi himself do at this point? He strived and struggled and had to support himself to get where he is now; he always depended on his own two hands, because he had to. Akaashi’s father had passed away in his sleep due to sickness when he was just 16, and his mother spent her days in a retirement home. Akaashi has never met the only uncle he has, but he was told he made big money, and that he could not be trusted because the way he made money was ‘unknown’ and ‘sketchy.’ So Akaashi was independent, and he refused to let relationships get in the way of everything he has worked so hard for. The black-haired boy continued to put away the groceries as he thought of what he would have sacrificed for his father, or even his mother right now. Akaashi began to understand that fear of ‘risk,’ as he remembered the struggle of losing his father. The constant ‘What if’s’, the worrying and panic that came with illnesses.

“Akaashi, do you know what it’s like?” Kageyama asked, getting Akaashi’s attention once again.

Akaashi turned to grab the jar of peanut butter, and saw Kageyama’s serious face, staring at the ground. “What do you mean?”

“The confusion, the pain, the fear. Hinata still wakes up in tears, hand over his throat, sometimes clutching his stomach, not- not being able to breathe. You know he hasn’t told me everything? He has scars, Akaashi, scars. I don’t mean just mental scars, he has scars on his chest and his back, big fat red scars… and he says he doesn’t remember how he got them. Do you know what it’s like, waking up to see someone you love with your entire being, thinking and knowing that their life has been negatively changed for- for forever? That the relationship won’t be the same, the person you love isn’t the same, I- I don’t even know if he’ll seize again or if he’ll… live through the next one. It’s too much, and I- I can’t seem to do anything for him.” Kageyama’s voice was wavering, and Akaashi stood frozen, listening to one of his closest friends break down yet again. His heart ached for both boys who seemed to barely survive each day. He knew it would be a long, long time before things weren’t so crazy for them.

“Akaashi, what do I do?”

Akaashi set down the peanut butter, walked over to Kageyama and lifted his head. Staring into his slightly reddened eyes, he brought his friend close and let him silently cry on his shoulder. Luckily, Hinata had left the bedroom and was now blasting music from inside the washroom. The two friends weren’t super close; they both had their boundaries and understood each other in that way. They’d known each other for years, but had only been friends for three of those years and had gradually gotten to know one another much better, but up until the recent past with what happened to Hinata, they had never opened up about their feelings or any nasty past truths. The fact that Kageyama was open and relying on him like this, it really spoke to Akaashi. It tore his heart in two to see his friend breaking down and losing it. Kageyama didn’t have many friends, therefore not many people to lean on. Even so, Akaashi still felt somewhat pleased that he was someone Kageyama could count on: On the one hand, many times he didn’t know what to say or how to react in these situations. Not many would, given the circumstances. On the other hand, Akaashi often avoided close friends growing up, yet, he felt, almost good in a sense, to have a friend as close as Kageyama is. The events which occured four months ago almost forced them, especially Kageyama, to trust in each other even more.

“Kageyama, I can’t give any sort of direct instructions for this type of situation. That being said, what you’re doing for Hinata? It’s enough. You’ve placed your whole life on pause for him, and it sucks that it feels like you can’t do anything for him, but trust me when I say that you’re doing enough. That boy loves you so much, and he needs you more than anything or anyone right now. It will get better. Things will be different, but you’re both going to be okay. I swear,” Akaashi finished, letting go of Kageyama. The younger of the two friends sighed and backed out of the hug.

“Okay,” he whispered, and they worked in silence, putting the rest of the groceries away. Soon enough, Hinata pranced out, wearing Kageyama’s long lost headphones and an old jersey, DS Lite in hand.

“Kageyama, I didn’t know you had a DS!” he exclaimed

“Oh, wow, it’s been _ages_ since I’ve seen those headphones. Kageyama, do you remember that jersey?”

“God yes, your mom gave me that for my birthday, all because I laughed at one of those ridiculous Super Bowl advertisements when she came to visit last year, now she thinks I’m a football fan, ” Kageyama responded.

“Hahah, yeah. My mom likes you, Kageyama.”

“Sho, where did you even find all this junk?”

“A box,” Hinata commented bluntly.

“What? What box? There’s no box.” The two began to lightly bicker about why Hinata was going through Kageyama’s stuff, and then Akaashi remembered he had to go to work in less than an hour.

“Crap, I gotta go to work, thanks for the groceries and I’ll see you guys later!” Akaashi said as he walked over to the washroom. The pair waved their goodbyes and left for Hinata’s compartment.

-

Akaashi started working as a bartender at the age of 18, he found bartending to be his sort of thing. He thought it was a skillful job and thoroughly enjoyed learning about alcohol. He also felt lucky enough to be able to get most of his class hours to work around his job and vice versa, since he had to work late at night.

Akaashi got all sorts of customers, and he was completely aware that bartending could also potentially ‘put him in an uncomfortable position. Akaashi wasn’t gullible (for the most part); he knew that going for this type of job would force him to deal with people who were interested in him, and in… sexual activities including him, to put it nicely. Most people were mature and controlled themselves, but every once in a while there was the ‘Priscilla,’ as they called them. Priscilla was a customer from 6 years ago who caused the worst rampage in the history of that restaurant. Apparently, she had come in as a relaxed and tired customer looking to get a few drinks, but when a man had come over to speak with her, she freaked out and began throwing things. She ran a mock, and got the restaurant in some trouble at a court hearing. Priscilla was also held accountable for her actions, since she injured the man and a bartender in her freak out. Since then, any time there was a customer that showed any signs of irritation or uncomforting / immature flirting, they were labelled a Priscilla.

Akaashi wanted to be mature and so he rarely let greed or lust get the better of him, he didn’t want to put his job or his safety at risk. Sometimes Akaashi was a bit of an overthinker when it came to thinking about what could happen if he agreed to be open with a customer more often. Regardless, Akaashi’s co-worker’s enjoyed teasing him and frequently tried to push him to ‘do’ more, rather than ‘just talk.’ It irked him and made him cringe, but he usually dismissed it.

The first time Akaashi let himself go somewhere else after hours with a customer, the man took him to his house. When things started to get heated, the guy called out for someone, and Akaashi realized he was inviting a girl to join in, so he politely excused himself, and apologized to the girl as his ‘preferred sexual orientation excludes women.’ He left the house feeling embarrassed, but also uncomfortable, as he would have liked to have been informed or asked about… exploring new areas, with three people especially.

The second time Akaashi had an occurrence with a customer he liked, was amazing. Akaashi remembered how kind the older man (Akaashi 18 y/o, man 21 y/o) was to him. At first, Akaashi was suspicious, but he actually grew fond of him. It was the little things, like cooking waffles and brewing hot coffee before Akaashi would wake up, that made Akaashi fall for him. He made him feel like he was a prince, so special, like he was the only person he could see in the world. Their relationship slowly flourished into something beautiful, and Akaashi felt he was falling in love, for the first time in his young life. Although their relationship only lasted a mere 13 months, it still pained him to think about it, nearly two years later. Not only was it his first relationship, Akaashi always felt like he was at fault for what happened. Regardless, he was grateful that he didn’t see him at Dominique’s Bar & Grill anymore.

Akaashi walked into the building and greeted the other workers. Moving into the small break room, Akaashi locked his things in the mini locker, and then punched his employee number in the punch-in machine. He walked out and tied his apron that circled around his waist before washing his hands. “Hey, Sav,” Akaashi addressed.  
“Hi, how are you Akaashi?”

Savannah was a 19 year old bartender who was just starting university to study biomechanics. She was an incredibly intelligent girl, but she never showed it off. She’d been offered plenty of scholarships and awards, Akaashi slightly envied her at times, yet he also appreciated her. She was quiet, and because they both had similar personalities, he and Savannah actually became friends, even studied together every now and then.

Savannah started working at Dominique’s a year after Akaashi, and had not called in sick for a day of work, as of yet. Akaashi had seen her being talked to by a few customers who came in already intoxicated, spewing all kinds of ridiculous nonsense to Savannah. She had been put in some rather nasty situations by creepy men, yet she never seemed to be impacted by the events. Akaashi didn’t know much else about the young brunette, other than she was in a relationship. He’d only met her girlfriend once, when she came to pick her up. She seemed angry, and Akaashi admitted to himself that he felt slight concern when he saw a very muscular 5’9 woman nudging little 5’4 Savannah a little too harshly out the door for Akaashi’s comfort. As much as he wanted to bring it up, he decided that if he saw any other sort of reason to ask about it, he would. Akaashi liked working with Savannah because she wasn’t loud or obnoxious, never tried to pry Akaashi open about his love life or family or any other private concerns, unlike the other employees. She was the one person, other than his manager, that he legitimately liked to be around, so he wasn’t going to try and risk upsetting her by asking about her private life, at least not yet. Her relaxed and chill composure was similar to Kageyama’s, often just staring blankly off into space, except for the fact that every once in awhile, Kageyama got sudden and completely random bursts of energy. He wasn’t drunk or anything, he would just get so stressed and the pressure built up so much that he would explode and very loudly roar out AC/DC or Britney Spears songs until his throat physically could not handle anymore. Most of the time, Kageyama was relaxed, but sometimes he was a handful. Still, Akaashi had not witnessed anything of that sort out of Savannah, thankfully.

Akaashi had a busy shift tonight, but it had calmed down at this point. The bar stops officially serving alcohol at 2:15 am, but the whole restaurant doesn’t close until 3 am. Often times cranky customers came in between those times, asking why they were still open if they weren’t able to serve alcoholic drinks anymore. Some people wouldn’t want to leave when asked to do so. It was a pain having to put up with disrespectful customers.

It was now 12:16 am, and the bar was much quieter compared to the restaurant. Savannah had left at 11 and he was now working with another employee, but they were on their break now. Akaashi was quietly washing a few dishes, reminiscing his previous conversation with an older woman who had just left. He was so focused on his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed a customer slyly staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He pretended not to notice immediately, instead deciding to finish washing the last glass and hanging it to air dry. He patted his hands dry with a towel, and then turned to walk over to the man.

“ Hi, can I help you?” Akaashi asked. The man was slouched over, wearing a large black hoodie with a beer in his hand. He didn’t look up or say anything, and took another sip of his drink. Akaashi had dealt with these types of people before. They were often upset or grumpy about something and usually wanted to be left alone. Akaashi sighed, and tried again, “Well, if you need anything, just let me know.” He said with a smile plastered on his face, and then turned to continue cleaning, making sure to keep an eye on the man in case he made any sudden movements.

Since before he started working at Dominique’s, Akaashi was always on his toes, always alert. When he began training, he was reminded of ways to not lose track of time or the environment due to your own thoughts; he had found that bartending poses more of a risk than many may think, and so the employees had to learn to be aware of customers and their behaviours. He didn’t seem to notice any sort of intoxicative behaviours or signs from the man sat at the counter, but he could be in a very bad mood, so Akaashi didn’t bug him too much. Instead, he pretended to barely notice the man, even when he clanked his empty beer glass as a signal for Akaashi’s attention.

Akaashi placed his broom leaned up against a wall and went to quickly rinse off his hands. The tv was still playing, and there was only one other customer, which was very strange for a late Friday night. They usually had more customers at this time. The only other customer was either resting their head, or asleep. He made a note of it to check on them in a few minutes.

*clank clank* Akaashi turned his head to the left to see the man’s tanned hand, fingers still wrapped around the glass, and waiting to be served. He walked over and smiled slightly, “What can I do for you?” Akaashi clasped his hands gently to his midsection and leaned slightly forward to seem more friendly. He waited for a response, and looked down when the man slid his empty glass over. He held up his index finger to ask for another drink. Akaashi was unsure of how much he had been drinking that night before coming to the bar, but he wasn’t showing any dangerous signs of intoxication, so he served him a glass of water first before bringing out more beer.

“Can I get you anything to eat?” Akaashi stood as he watched him down the beer in one go. Slamming it down, he grunted out the word “Fries.”

“Sure thing, it’ll be out in a few minutes.” Akaashi wrote down an order for fries and handed it off to a waiter to give it to the kitchen. He quickly walked around the bar to give the tables a wipe down before returning behind the counter to continue with his duties. After wiping down the counter as well, Akaashi stopped near the hooded man and decided to engage in some friendly conversation. Although he preferred the silence, he knew talking often won him some tips from customers and gave him a good reputation.

“So, where are you coming from tonight?” Akaashi asked while putting away some cutlery.  
The man took a sip of his water and sat up a little bit straighter. “An inn.” Akaashi took note of his deep voice. His calloused hands led him to assume he was someone who partakes in a lot of physical activity.

“Ah, visiting then? What brings you to western New York, just a bit of touring?” The man then sighed and paused for a moment, before pulling his hood slightly back so it just sat on his head, not covering his face. Akaashi first saw the bags under his eyes, and the calming and tired smile he held. Akaashi’s eyes met his, and he waited for a response.

“Yeah. I’m here with my friend, spent some time in Manhattan before coming to the lovely city of…?”

“Rochester”

“Yes,” he snapped, “Rochester.”

“Well, New York is a fascinating state, especially for tourists. Did you see the Manhattan Bridge?”

“Yup, sure is big. We also went through New York city and saw Hell Gate Bridge.”

“Oh, you cut straight through New York, then?” Akaashi pondered.

“Yeah. That bridge was cool, not sure why it’s called Hell Gate, though.”

“Oh, it’s because of the colour. It was repainted in the 90s, but the colour was shit quality and faded, which is why it’s the splotchy colour you see today. Anyway, it got the name from the name of the paint; Hell Gate.”

“Jeez, you seem like kind of a nerd for history.” The man laughed.

“A bit,” Akaashi smiled.

The next half hour was filled with silence, except for television sounds and Akaashi cleaning. It was now 2:53 am, and the man was getting up, presumably beginning to head back to the inn.

“Off for the night?”

“Yep, my friend is probably wondering where I am. I’m just gonna call a cab. Anyway, good night. Nice chatting with you.”

“Alright, have a nice night.” As Akaashi watched the hooded man exit the bar, he thought he heard him mumble something strange to the phone, but decided to ignore it.

-

“Hey man, I talked to him, I’m gonna come back tomorrow night and ‘befriend’ him or whatever … No, I didn’t get his name but I know it’s him, kinda thin, black hair, pretty eyes… Fuck you, he has nice eyes… You have owl eyes, asshole… Yup, see you soon, I’ll keep working the case, you rest … Kuroo, we’re gonna catch that bastard. Akaashi will go down for what he did.”


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> F i'm sorry this took so long, iIgot writer's block.  
> I'm sorry there's so much extra dialogue/plot stuff, i don't wanna rush this and i feel that the extra 'stuff' is important to setting the major parts of this story aaa.  
> Anyway here we go chapter 2! Enjoy and pls feel free to leave a comment and do not hesitate to ask questions or smth! i appreciate u guys lots

2

It was a Friday morning and Akaashi was fast asleep under thick covers. It had rained the previous night, so he had to get up to grab spare blankets from the closet around midnight. He could have easily taken some from Kageyama’s bed since he was still staying at Hinata’s, but Kageyama slept with the thinnest blankets Akaashi had seen in his life and knew they would do his body no good. 

Akaashi woke up to a sudden sneeze, his body forcefully sitting him up before his eyes were even open. His bagged eyes drooped open as he sniffled. Feeling another sneeze creeping through, Akaashi swiftly grabbed a tissue and sneezed into it. After wiping his nose, he shivered as he pulled the covers up to his face. He placed his kleenex on the nightstand next to him and snatched his (very cold) phone before retracting his arm into the warmth of the blankets. He checked the time first, 9:08 a.m. Akaashi also took note of a few messages from Oikawa, asking about an assignment. Akaashi’s first class of the day started at ten to noon, so he had time to rest before getting to his studies. 10 minutes passed of him just staring mindlessly at his phone when he decided it was time to get up. Opening the curtains to let any sunlight through brought no avail as the grey clouds filled the sky along with a musty smell of rain and worms, which absolutely disgusted Akaashi. He shivered once more and walked over to the unit’s thermometer. It was 21.5 celsius, so he turned it up to 24 and hoped the condo would warm up soon enough. 

Akaashi spent his time through the next hour showering, brushing his teeth, and making himself breakfast. When he got to the kitchen, he took out the small green cutting board and rinsed some blueberries, strawberries, and ripped a banana off of its connecting stem. He sliced strawberries and the banana, placing the fruits into a white bowl. Next, he took out the pumpernickel loaf and cut two thin pieces off, toasting them and layering thick marmalade, choosing to set them onto a small black plate. He also brewed fresh coffee and poured it into a plain black mug, taking in the strong smell which always seemed to please him. The smell of warm food and strong coffee made its way around the compartment, giving Akaashi a sense of comfort and coziness. He set his food on the island in front of a stool and sat down. ‘ _Thank you for the food.’_ Akaashi finished his food and cleaned the kitchen within a few minutes, and decided to get to work on his assignments. 20 minutes had gone by and Akaashi had sneezed twice. After the third time, he felt slightly annoyed and made his way to the kitchen cabinets, looking for vitamin C gummies. He also made himself a hot cup of ginger tea in hopes of relieving his body of whatever symptoms he may have been feeling. Akaashi couldn’t let himself get sick; it could get in the way of his education and he wanted to avoid that as much as practically possible.

When 11:30 a.m. rolled around, Akaashi packed his books and laptop, a water bottle and a small bottle of vitamin C gummies. He thought to himself about lunch, and chose to pack another one of the pre-packed salads that Kageyama had bought. He was incredibly grateful, not just for the thought, but the fact that Kageyama actually _knew_ what to buy. When they first became roommates, Kageyama would take about four hours buying groceries on his own and bought mostly dairy foods (it was pretty much all yogurt and milk). Akaashi remembered not being able to down any of the products; for the most part he tried to stay away from animal products because he didn’t think they were the most nutritious, not to mention dairy often didn’t sit well in his stomach. Kageyama, however, managed to consume every single thing he had bought, and then some. Since then, Akaashi would have to make a list for Kageyama whenever it was his turn to buy groceries. Eventually, Kageyama grew used to what to buy, how much to buy and how much to spend. He also learned what Akaashi liked to eat, which is what led to the premade salads. They may not taste the best, but he found them to be filling and healthy. Kageyama was amazed with the way Akaashi was able to stay on top of his eating habits while in university, and when asked about how it was done, the older boy just responded with ‘Just listen to your body. Your body knows what it needs. For example, it doesn’t need junk, so don’t feed it junk.’ The statement alone left Kageyama confused, how does one _listen_ to a body? It was one thing when it came to paying attention to his body during volleyball, but how was he supposed to know what his… _internal_ body needed? Kageyama put way too much thought into this and ended up puzzled.

Akaashi slipped on his vans and zipped up his black raincoat, swung his backpack over his shoulder and locked the door. Due to the weather, he chose to take an uber to school. It was pouring once again, and Akaashi could sense the strong aroma; pleasant earthiness mixed with the stench of soil and - _worms-._ It made him gag, so he played music in his earphones to focus on that while he waited for the car, rather than on the gross ‘stinkiness’ of nature. 

As the small white vehicle drove up to the condo sidewalk, Akaashi coughed harshly into his arm and cursed himself in his head. The ride was short and he arrived 10 minutes before class started. He headed up to his seat next to Sugawara and took out his laptop, pencil case and a notebook. 

“Good morning,” Suga said.

“Hello, how are you?” Akaashi replied.

“Good, thanks for asking. I’m almost done with the assignment, for once my group is doing work, how about you?”

“ Just over halfway done. I’m kinda glad I’m doing it alone, it’s hard to tell if your group is gonna be reliable or not. ”

“True. Hey, by the way, I heard something from Oikawa?” Suga began.

“Oh, dear. What did he say?” Akaashi pondered.

“Something about Hinata? Did he go to the hospital again? Why didn’t anyone call me about it? Who else knows?” Suga blurted out.

“Yes, yes he went to the hospital. I don’t know how many people they want to know about it so I haven’t really told anyone, only me, Oikawa and Iwaizumi and now you know.”

“Are you serious?! I wish I had known, I would have been there. When did it happen? How is he now?”

Akaashi looked over at Suga’s worried face and felt guilt stabbing at his heart. He regrets not telling Suga. “It was Monday… I think he’s still recovering, he’s with Kageyama and as far as I know, neither have been to school the whole week.”

“ _Monday?!_ ” Suga harshly whispered out. A few heads turned in curiosity and Akaashi slouched slightly in embarrassment. 

“He’ll be fine, he just needs new medication. Maybe you should come over and see him,” Akaashi assured.

“Yeah… What time do you work?”

“9 to 2. My last class ends at 6, you?”

“5. I’ll wait for you. God, I can _feel_ the wrinkles forming from the stress for those two.” Suga sighed and turned to face the front of the class as the professor walked in. Akaashi couldn’t agree more. It was absolutely insane, to think what unbearable pain they must be in. No one knows the full story, Hinata refuses to explain it all. To think of the trauma, how he’s handling it, Akaashi couldn’t figure out if Hinata was suppressing the feelings without knowing it or if his way of dealing with it was to pretend like nothing happened at all in front of others. Either way, it was depressing. Akaashi sneezed yet again and took a big gulp of water before writing down his notes.

-

Akaashi yawned, thinking about what to make for dinner as Suga went on about some new girl he was talking to. 

“Akaashi, you listening?” Suga asked, bringing him out of his trance.

“Yes, sorry,” Akaashi quickly apologized.

“Tired?”

“... Is it that obvious?” he asked, feeling bad for ignoring Suga’s chatter. 

“Kind of. What’s going on, are you working too much?”

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

“You should go see your mom, she seems to put you in a good mood. It’s hard to tell, though, so I might be wrong. You always have the same expression,” Suga chuckled.

Akaashi swallowed back the urge to cough and gave him a small smile before responding, “Yeah, I’ll probably go on Sunday. It’s been a few weeks.” 

“Hey, so, what can you tell me about this situation with Hinata?” Suga wondered.

Akaashi sighed, “As much as I would like to tell you, it’s not my position or story to share their… private matters.”

“It’s hardly a private matter, the _police_ got involved! Besides, you told Oikawa, and _he_ probably told Iwaizumi.”

“I know, I _know_. I should have asked for permission or something, especially since Kageyama and Oikawa aren’t on the best terms.” 

“I hope they can put that aside for now. Anyway, I’m sure I’ll find out at some point.” Suga finished.

The two arrived and Akaashi set down his things on his bed. He decided to start preparing dinner. “Do you want to stay for dinner?” he asked. Suga nodded, and Akaashi went to wash his hands before grabbing vegetables from the fridge. He unpackaged a block of tofu and wrapped it in paper towels, placing two cans on top to press excess water out of it.

“How can I help?” Suga offered. 

“Oh, I don’t mind doing it on my own.”

“Come on, the more the merrier!” Suga smiled.

“Okay, thank you,” Akaashi nodded. Suga patted his head and washed his hands as well. 

“So, what are we cooking?”

“Whole bunch of vegetables, tofu, and either spaghetti or quinoa. Would you like to cut the vegetables?” the black haired boy suggested.

“Sure!”

The two got to work, cutting a wide array of vegetables and pan frying them. They added soy sauce, tomato passata, broth, cholula and peanut butter. 

“I didn’t know you liked hot sauce, Akaashi,” Suga said as he placed the lid on the pot of quinoa.

“Yes well, I enjoy food from all sorts of cultures and countries,” Akaashi responded.

“So I see. I’m amazed that you still cook so well, university hasn’t managed to throw you off your healthy eating habits?”

“I’m far from perfect, but something like this doesn’t take long and lasts a few days between Kageyama and I.”

After they had eaten, they decided to bring leftovers for Kageyama and Hinata. They knocked and waited before knocking again. The two looked at each other in wonder. Handing the containers to Suga, Akaashi reached down to the handle and slowly began to turn it. He opened it slightly, and raised his eyebrows as he turned to Suga. Suga motioned with his head to go in, and Akaashi hesitantly pushed it further. “Um… Hello? Kageyama? Hinata? It’s Akaashi, and Sugawara.” There was a crash from inside and the two boys at the door flinched. Suga nudged Akaashi in and they stood at the entrance, eyeing the commotion and the broken flower vase on the floor. 

“You won’t talk about it to Lev or Yachi, not your sister, fine, but why not me?! You refuse to talk to _anyone_ and it’s gonna eat you up, stupid! I- I’m here, for- for you, dumbass!” Kageyama yelled.

“Shut up! I’m dealing with it my _own_ way!” a higher pitched voice yelled back.

“But it’s been _months_ and all you do is keep it in, how is _that_ dealing with it, moron!”

“Stop calling me names, stupid Kageyama!” Hinata exclaimed as he pushed Kageyama back. Kageyama glared at Hinata, and the two stood, before charging at each other. Kageyama shoved Hinata, who came back with a punch to the stomach. Kageyama bent over to catch his breath, and then propelled the two onto the floor with a loud thud. Akaashi and Sugawara froze with their mouths hung open. The silver haired boy quickly placed the containers of food on the floor before running over to put a stop to the fighting. He grabbed Hinata’s arms, and Akaashi ran over to hold Kageyama back. 

“Shoyo!” Kageyama grunted out.

“Tobio, you idiot! I hate you!” Hinata choked out as tears streamed down his face.

“Kageyama, calm down, please,” Akaashi said as he walked them out the door. He looked back at Sugawara, who was attempting to quiet Hinata down. Akaashi proceeded to shut the door to Hinata’s unit and made his way to his own. Kageyama’s face was red and full of anger, his eyes glued to the floor with confusion. He pulled him by his hand and sat him on his bed, Akaashi taking a seat in front of him. He waited a minute for the younger boy to catch his breath. As Kageyama placed his hands on his knees and bunched his shoulder blades, Akaashi sighed and chose to begin the conversation. Just as he was about to start, he sensed a sneeze creep down his nose and sniffed it back in time. He grabbed a tissue just in case. 

“Kageyama-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he cut him off.

“... But you need to. What was all that?”

Kageyama bent over, elbows on his knees, palms covering his eyes. “I- We’re going insane. He started to open up about what happened, but then he stopped and would not open up again. He apologized for some stupid reason, said he wanted to deal with it on his own. It just… made me so angry, why doesn’t he trust me?!” he finished with a sob.

“Kageyama… you know he trusts you. We don’t know what it’s like for him to have to shoulder all those awful memories, he went through something traumatic and we can’t expect him to just open up so easily. When he’s ready to share the whole truth, he’ll do it.”

The younger of the two sat up abruptly, “What if he _never_ tells me?! Besides, how am I supposed to help him when I don’t know the entire story?!”

“Well, you said he began to open up, that’s progress. Did he tell you anything you didn’t know previously?” Akaashi asked, trying to ease Kageyama’s emotions. 

“Actually- he did…” Akaashi raised an eyebrow in curiosity, waiting for Kaegyama to continue. “He was saying that he didn’t want to go back to that place ever. It was always cold, and he felt like an object, a lab rat.”

“... Did he say anything else?” Akaashi asked in a low voice.

“ Just that he’s scared, that they’ll come back for him.”

“Why would they come back for him? It’s not like he owes them anything, right?”

“Well, no, I don’t think so. He said he overheard them say they needed more people. They apparently had an increase in buyers, so they’re looking for more people to exploit.”

Akaashi’s breath hitched and he felt chills go up his spine. “Shit… That’s so messed up.” Kageyama stayed silent and looked up to see Akaashi’s shocked face.

“Did he tell you anything else?”

Kageyama shook his head and chewed his bottom lip, “This is why I’m so angry. He went through something unimaginable and he won’t tell me the full story. He refuses to see a therapist, he won’t talk to anyone… I just want to help him,” he stated with clenched fists.

“You can’t force it out of him, it would just make things worse. He’s opening up to you bit by bit, try to be grateful for that much. Just keep letting him know that you’re there for anything he needs. Do his parents know what happened?”

“No, I don’t think so. And they still haven’t been able to visit the U.S. because they’ve been working like crazy.”

Akaashi sighed uneasily and sat back in his chair, “That’s rough. So many people’s families have been split up because of the whole Japan issue. It’s so unfair.”

Kageyama nodded and wiped his nose with his sleeve. “So,” he began, “What do I do now? He said he hates me.”

Akaashi smiled softly, remembering that Kageyama is still a child at heart, so awkward and literal, naïve and unsure about things. He always tries his best, and Akaashi found himself feeling like an older brother at times. “Kageyama, you really believe he hates you?”

“Well that’s what he said, so…”

Akaashi ruffled Kageyama’s hair and chuckled lightly, “He’s a ball of energy and happiness, he could never hate you. He was just caught in the moment. Come on, let’s go see him.”

-

Suga managed to calm Hinata down and grabbed him a glass of water to hydrate his dry throat after all the crying and yelling. They sat on the couch and Suga thought of where to begin. “Hinata, I hate to see you and Kageyama fighting like this. Do you wanna talk about it?” Suga offered. Hinata stayed quiet with his knees tucked under his chin, arms circled around his legs as he stared straight ahead at the wall. 

Suga exhaled before trying again, “I know that you’re hurting, but it’ll hurt less if you let it out. You know you can talk to me, right? Or would you rather talk to Oikawa, because I can call him up no pro-”

“NO!” Hinata exclaimed, “I don’t wanna talk to the Grand King, it would be too… weird. I just… it’s hard to talk to Kageyama…”

“Why is that?”

“I just don’t want to worry him, if he knew everything that happened, it would drive him nuts, and I don’t want him to have to deal with that knowledge. I don’t want him to look at me differently. It’s so scary, ya know?” the younger boy finished.

“Hinata… the last thing he wants right now is for you to have to shoulder everything on your own. You two have each others backs, now you’re one siding him? Also, he won’t look at you differently, not in the way you may be thinking. He’ll always be there for you and vice versa, just try communicating with him a bit more, okay? It’ll be good for both of you,” Suga stated. He watched as Hinata took in all the information and slowly nodded. Hinata took a pillow and laid it across Suga’s lap, resting his head on it. Suga took this opportunity to pet his head as the orange haired boy’s eyes closed. After a minute, Hinata’s mouth opened to speak again.

“Sugawara, how much do you know?”

“Not much. I really only know as much as Officer Kageyama shared with the group, plus bits and pieces from Akaashi, something about… kidnapping and trafficking,” Suga replied. He watched as Hinata’s eyes opened slightly.

“They… hurt me. Gave me a number, ignored my begging. One guy had a whip to boss people around… it was awful,” he said. He moved his left hand down to his stomach and gripped it tightly as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Hinata, can I…” Suga trailed off as his hand hovered over Hinata’s abdomen. When Hinata’s arm went limp, Suga took that as an ok and slowly lifted his shirt to reveal nasty red and brown scars. Suga’s hand went to cover his mouth in shock and held back a gasp. His heart wrenched and he felt anger take over, his face turning into a mix between troubled and despair. How could this happen? He was too innocent, too good for this to happen, what did this _kid_ do to deserve this? 

“They’re ugly, right? Kageyama makes that same face when he sees them, y’know.” Suga pulled his shirt back down and proceeded to lightly massage Hinata’s head as he rested on his lap. 

“Hinata, I know you may not be comfortable talking to others, but I’ve been paying attention to the news, and I’ve heard of other recent cases, similar to yours, right here in New York. Maybe you could try group counselling?” Suga proposed. 

“Maybe… Man, I just wanna play some volleyball!” Hinata declared, suddenly changing the mood. The silver haired boy laughed, “Okay, but first, you should eat. We should also clean up the broken vase.”

The shorter boy sat up quickly and raised his arms in the air, “Alright! Food!” 

-

Akaashi sat and watched as the younger pair spoke in low voices and made up. He then clasped his hands together and turned to Suga, “So, I have to leave for work in 30 minutes. You’re welcome to stay at my place, Oikawa mentioned he’d be staying over for a few days, so you two could hang out, if you want.”

The shorter boy put his hand to his chin in thought before speaking, “Sure! If you don’t mind that is. Wouldn’t it be weird if you have people over while you’re not home, though?”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all. I know you won’t let Oikawa throw a party or trash the place,” Akaashi joked.

-

Akaashi waited for his bus in the windy weather and hoped it wouldn’t be late again. New York public transit was such a pain sometimes. Yet, it was cheaper than Uber, so he just had to deal with it, or so he told himself. 

Akaashi pushed the thick doors to _Dominique’s_ open and immediately got a whiff of the smell of food roaming around the building. He heard loud chatter, eyeing multiple large groups of customers in the booths. It was typical for a Friday night, not to mention _Dominique’s_ is located in a plaza with a nearby mall, so it wasn’t surprising to see it so full. ‘ _Yes, tips, I’m gonna make bank tonight_ ,’ Akaashi thought to himself. He hung his coat on a hook behind the break room door and grabbed his apron from his backpack, tying it around his waist. He waved to Oliver, a 28 year old employee, and got straight to work. 

“Hello, busy tonight?”

“Oh you know it, man,” Oliver answered with a smile.

Before he knew it, it was 12 am and Akaashi was still going back and forth making drinks and chattering away with customers. Although he was mostly a quiet person, he definitely found customers entertaining; they always had such interesting things to talk about and so much to say about what’s going on in their lives. He eyed the time as he dried a cup with a towel, looking over at the doors when he heard them open. Akaashi watched as a man took a seat at the bar, recognizing the figure almost immediately. ‘ _A new regular maybe? Well, probably not for long, he said he’s a tourist after all,’_ he pondered. He set the cup down and wiped his hands on his apron as he strolled over to take his order.

“Good evening, it’s nice to see you again,” Akaashi greeted in a smooth voice. The customer took off his hood and grinned at Akaashi. The black haired boy felt that he knew him from somewhere, previous from the night before, but wiped the thought away.

“Hey, hey, hey! How’s it going?” he energetically replied. Akaashi raised an eyebrow at the ‘hey, hey, hey,’ and wondered why the man’s energy felt different from last night.

“Good, thank you. How are you doing?”

“Totally awesome, so can I get a whiskey on the rocks?” he asked. Akaashi thought for a moment, speculating the man’s words to figure out if he was drunk or just hyper. 

“Um… I mean no disrespect but I feel I must ask, you seem different from last night, are you alright, sir?” Akaashi stated, trying to come to a conclusion about the man’s current health in a respectful manner.

“Oh, yeah, last night I was just sad, I’m feeling great now, though. So how about that Scotch?”

“Okay, coming right up,” he responded. He turned to grab the bottle of Scotch and prepared the drink as a conversation between the two arose.

“So, how is your night going?” Akaashi inquired.

“Awesome! Spent the day touring with my pal, New York is fun!”

“It definitely is, I’ve only been here for a few years, but I’ve seen my fair share of interesting things. Times Square is something I recommend, it’s quite popular as a tourist attraction,” Akaashi offered. 

“Isn’t it for shopping? Shopping isn’t really my thing,” he blatantly stated.

“Well, yes, but it’s got a variety of intriguing things to check out, it’s not just a shopping centre. If you go, make sure to go at night. It’s way better, in my opinion,” Akaashi placed the drink down in front of the man as he continued, “It also used to be called Longacre Square up until the early 1900s, did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t. You really like history, don’t you?”

“Actually, it’s what I’m studying in university. History is quite fascinating, and there is so much to learn from the past.” Akaashi glanced over at Oliver, who was getting ready to leave, waved to him and noticed the rush of customers steady into a low pace, feeling it alright to continue the current conversation.

“Wow! Really? Seems like so much information though, you must have a really good memory!” the man exclaimed.

The bartender felt awkward at the sudden compliment and fidgeted as he thought of what to say, “Oh, well, I- uh, I just study a lot, that’s all.”

“So, you said you’ve only lived here for a few years? Where were you before that?” he wondered.

“Japan, I’m actually Japanese, though that might have been obvious from my physical appearance and accent. May I ask where you are from?”

“Ohohoho? I’m Japanese, too!” the man excitedly said as he pointed to himself. “What are you doing all the way in America, land of the free?”

“Oh, studying, for one, but also the whole tension thing that was going on with Japan and nearby countries. I’m one of the kids whose family sent overseas, though my family is here as well. I have friends who are here without their parents, because they’re still in Japan, working,” Akaashi admitted. He felt a pang of sadness for the friends who have been split from their families in panic of the possible future in their home country.

“Woah, I’ve been here for a long time so I don’t keep up with Japan news, what’s going on there?”

“I don’t know too many of the details, but basically Japan is having… issues with other countries in Asia and it was getting pretty bad, so a lot of families, especially in my region, either moved out of the country or moved their kids out of the country. It was a super long and difficult process, so not everyone who wanted to leave could. I should probably count myself lucky. I don’t think it’s as bad anymore, since that was like 4 years ago, but now I’m kind of stuck here, and so are other kids. It’s not so bad, though.”

“Wow, I feel like I should have known this. You said you’re here with your family?”

“Yup, my dad passed away, so it’s just me and my mom,” he continued, “Oh- how rude of me, I haven’t even introduced myself. My apologies, my name is Akaashi Keiji."

“Oh! No worries, my name is Bokuto Kotarou! You can just call me Bokuto,” he declared as he stretched his hand out. Akaashi shook it and took notice of the hard grip. 

“How long are you in New York for?” he asked.

“Uhhh, a few weeks, we’re not in any rush, so it’s not exactly planned.”

“I see. I hope you enjoy your stay, then. As I’ve mentioned before, New York is filled with lots to see and do, you can’t get bored. Do you-”

“Hey, bartender! Service, please!” a woman interrupted. 

Akaashi looked over, “Ah yes, I’ll be right there,” he turned back to Bokuto and gave him a small smile, “Please excuse me. It was nice to talk to you, thank you for the conversation.”

“Sure thing! See you later, Akaashi!!” he replied with a wave. 

Akaashi continued to keep himself busy cutting lemons and restocking bottles, cleaning glasses and chatting with customers as he was the only bartender now. It was almost 2:40 am and he was trying to close up, but the bar was still buzzing. He watched as a large group finished paying and began to put on their coats, feeling relieved to see them exit as it calmed the air in the whole building; large groups were quite rowdy and loud from all the talking and it sometimes made Akaashi feel tense. He then looked over to Bokuto, who was watching the sports event that was taking place on tv. He didn’t seem too focused on the tv, it was as if he was just looking for something to do. Akaashi walked up to the remaining customers and politely reminded them that the bar will be closing in 20 minutes, and made sure he didn’t have anything else to do in the present moment before walking over.

“Is it any good?” Akaashi asked.

Bokuto turned around in his stool to face him before replying, “What?” 

“The game, is it a good one?” he elaborated while glancing up to the tv.

“Oh, I- I guess, hockey isn’t my kinda sport.”

“I feel the same. By the way, if I may ask-”

“You don’t have to be polite, ‘Kaashi.” he grinned. Akaashi wondered about the nickname, finding the man strange for being so comfortable around someone he just met the night before.

“Oh, okay. I was wondering why you haven’t brought this friend of yours to our bar?”

“Oh! Uh…” Bokuto scratched his head as his eyes wandered, “He’s um, tired.” Akaashi couldn’t decide if he believed that or not, and nodded in response. 

“Anyway,” Bokuto began, “I’m headed out, can you close up my tab?”

“Of course. Have a good night,” he waved. Bokuto zipped up his coat, threw up a peace sign and turned to leave. Akaashi looked down to the now empty glass and saw a napkin tucked under it, with something scribbled on it. As he picked it up, he saw what it was- a phone number, Bokuto’s name underneath, and messy writing, ‘Text me!’ 

Akaashi thought about throwing it out, not wanting to have to go through that whole… process of flirting and (possibly even) _dating_ again. He learned his lesson, and felt that he didn’t want anything to do with Bokuto, other than basic customer service. He crumpled it up and let his hand hover over a nearby trash can, giving it a second thought, and then let his hand open as the paper fell. The bartender checked the time once again, coughing harshly into his arm, and continued to close the bar. His mind wandered as the bar died down, and soon enough there was no one left but himself. Akaashi thought of a list of things he had to do when he got home as he began to take out the trash. He moved on to the one with the crumpled napkin in it and paused to think, _‘Damn it. I’m gonna regret this.’_ He reached in, finding the napkin that was now soggy. He snapped a photo of it, just in case it got ruined by whatever liquid was on it. After stuffing it into his pocket, he threw out the trash bags, turned off the lights, took his tips, grabbed his coat and bag and waved goodbye to the remaining kitchen crew members. 

-

Sunday. Thank _god_ he didn’t have to work today, because Akaashi could feel something had been stretched the wrong way in his back, and his throat felt like absolute _shit_ . He groaned and turned over to face the wall, wanting to fall back asleep. Unfortunately, this could not be accomplished because he heard a loud gasp and someone curse out, making Akaashi wonder what was going on. He sat up and felt a sudden sharp pang cross his head, signaling the start of a headache. Akaashi lazily dragged his feet out of bed and walked over to the kitchen to find Kageyama at the sink with the water running, the kitchen was a horrendous mess and Akaashi could tell something had burned from the obvious odour. ‘ _He’s cooking? Oh dear.’_ The older boy yawned as he stood in the entrance connecting the bedroom and kitchen, thinking of what to say.

“Are you okay? What happened?” he asked Kageyama. 

“Oh, you’re awake! N-nothing happened, I made breakfast,” he stuttered.

“Right…” Akaashi muttered as he looked around the kitchen in doubt. Kageyama took notice of this and blushed in embarrassment, “I just dropped a few things, I may have burned the coffee, and my finger, but it’s all good!” he blurted out.

“Kageyama, how in the _world_ did you burn _coffee_?”

“I- _I DON’T KNOW._ ” Kageyama yelled out, continuing to run his burned finger under the cold water. Akaashi’s brows furrowed and he marched up to the sink to see how bad the burn was. He sighed, and went to grab Vaseline and a bandage. 

“Let me see,” the older boy commanded, shutting the water off. He rubbed the jelly on and wrapped the bandage around the finger, and glanced up, giving Kageyama a sly look.

“Thanks…” 

“No problem. Anyway, why exactly did you cook?”

“Just… gratitude…” he mumbled. _‘Gratitude?’_ Akaashi took a plate and looked at whatever was made. There was a plate of stacked pancakes, all different shapes and sizes, some were burnt and some still looked raw. Next to this plate was a bowl of cut up fruit, which looked better. He also spotted some rough looking onigiri, but he deemed it edible and was not about to turn down rice balls. Akaashi decided to pick a bit of everything, except the coffee. Taking a seat at one end of the island, Akaashi motioned for his roommate to take a seat next to him. They sat and ate in silence as Akaashi struggled to down the food. Looking over to his friend, he thought to himself, _‘What a dummy, so weird.’_ Akaashi got up to grab some Tylenol from the pantry and sensed the headache growing worse.

“What’s up, you sick?” Kageyama asked with his mouth full of food.

“Just experiencing symptoms, I’m fine. By the way, I’m going to visit my mom today. What are your plans?”

“Shoyo wants to go out, he said he wants to check out some new animal sanctuary in Newark.”

“Newark, really? Wow, sounds f-” Before Akaashi could finish his sentence, a loud groaning came from the bedroom. He froze, and Kageyama made a face expressing annoyance. “What was that? Is there someone else here?” Akaashi whisper-yelled.

Akaashi stopped what he was doing and poked his head around the corner leading into the bedroom, looking into Kageyama’s side of the room. He saw a mattress on the floor and a brown head, and the person was slowly sitting up. The black haired boy immediately recognized the head of hair, and gaped as he grew confused about what was happening. Kageyama appeared next to Akaashi and stood awkwardly as he tried to speak, “Oh, right, um, I came back this morning from Hinata’s and saw him passed out on the extra mattress, so I just kind of… left him there.”

“How did I not even hear or see him last night? I came back at like 3:30 a.m.” Akaashi questioned.

“Ugh, can you guys shush,” Oikawa sleepily asked as he turned to face the two with a blanket wrapped around his body. He yawned and slowly got up and walked over to Akaashi as said man began to speak, “Oikawa, what are you still doing here?”

Oikawa leaned his head on Akaashi’s shoulder and closed his eyes, tightening the blanket around his shoulders. “You’re so warm, Keiji, can we cuddle together~” 

“Where is Sugawara? Wasn’t he here as well?”

“Sugie left at like 10 last night, I was here all alone,” Oikawa whined. Akaashi looked at Kageyama with a neutral expression and watched as the latter twitched his nose and walked back into the kitchen. 

“Come, let’s eat.”

“Wait, what are you doing today, Keikei? Can I join you?” the brunet pleaded.

Sighing lightly, Akaashi thought for a moment before answering, “I’m going to see my mom, if you really want to, you’re welcome to join me.” Although he would have preferred to go alone, he knew his mom loved seeing Akaashi’s friends. Oikawa’s head shot up from his shoulder in shock, and he threw off his blanket as he bear-hugged Akaashi. 

“Yes! Thank you! It’s going to be so much fun,” letting go of the hug, Oikawa gave Akaashi a smooch on the cheek and ran into the kitchen to eat. The black haired boy reminisced about what had just happened, then wiped his cheek and followed Oikawa. 

-

“So,” Akaashi began, “how are things with you and Iwaizumi? I assume the reason you asked to stay over was because something happened?”

“Oh my god, Keikei, how can you be so straightforward about my business like that?” he pouted, pretending to be offended.

“I- '' _‘A child is what he is.’_ “Just tell me what’s going on,” he said. The two boys sat in Oikawa’s car as he drove to the retirement home, which was about a 45 minute drive. Oikawa had met Akaashi’s mom a few times, and he genuinely enjoyed seeing her. Of all of her sons' friends, his mother seemed to like Oikawa the most, which Akaashi found completely bizarre. 

“Iwa-chan is just being so annoying, I brought up the whole ‘homophobic family’ thing to him and how I want to invite them for Christmas again this year, like I would even cover the flight expenses and everything! I said I wanted to strengthen the relationship with his family and shit, ya know?”

“And he said…?”

“He was like, ‘No, I think it’s too soon, last time didn’t go so well.’ So I asked him why he doesn’t want to put in effort with his family, then he called me an ass and went to the gym. So now I’m here with you because we’re both angry,” he finished in an upset tone.

“Oikawa, you get upset _way_ too easily,” he replied honestly.

“Rude!”

“Come on, Iwaizumi’s not as lucky as you are, he doesn’t have open and trusting parents. Try to understand what it’s like for him, don’t you think it’s hard enough for him to face his family, to think of his siblings, knowing how they feel about his sexuality and how they probably feel about you? Don’t force him so much. Besides… I hate to say this, but if it turns out that his parents might not ever come around to accepting you guys, it might be a good idea to… stop putting in so much effort. Regardless of if they’re blood related or not, someone who can’t accept you for who you are isn’t worth the endeavour,” Akaashi conveyed. Oikawa stayed silent after this, choosing to keep his eyes fixed on the road ahead of him. After a minute of silence, the two began to chat about school and other things going on in their lives and, before they knew it, they had arrived at their destination. 

The building was wide but not very tall, it was a fairly small retirement home with a mere 4 floors, excluding the main floor which held the kitchen/cafeteria, office, and rooms meant for all sorts of activities. It also had an indoor pool which was just being built for those who liked to relax or do light workouts in the water. It was called _Honeoye Falls Retirement Home_ , and although it may have been a little ways away from Akaashi, he and his mom agreed that it was the best one for her. She was lucky enough to have a US citizenship already, as she had lived in the US for a short period as a child before moving to Japan again. Akaashi looked at the pale white structure and the sign that hung on one side, advertising their brand, and tried to remember what it originally looked like before having all the renovations done.

Oikawa locked the car as they made their way over to the doors in silence, and completed the sign-in information at the front desk. A volunteer employee showed them to the library where Akaashi Niko was seated, reading a book as the sun shone on her gray shoulder-length hair. She looked peaceful and quite interested in the book, and Keiji felt nostalgia overwhelm his heart. Oikawa said he was going to go to the washroom, which left the pair alone. After thanking the volunteer for her help, Akaashi placed his hand on his mother’s left shoulder, to which she looked up behind her. A soft smile grew on her face as she recognized her son, so she closed her book and placed her free hand on top of his. 

“Keiji…” she spoke.

Akaashi moved in for a warm embrace and dug his head in the crook of her neck, “Okaa-san.” They let go, and he took a seat in front of her as she rubbed his hand that was stretched out. 

“How are you?” he asked.

“Mm, I’m fine, dear,” she nodded, “How are you? How is school?”

“I’m okay,” he suddenly felt the urge to cough and turned quickly to the side to let it out into his elbow, “Well, I think I’m getting sick, but I’ve been taking care of myself, so don’t worry.”

“It’s because you’re overworking yourself, isn’t it? This always happens, honey. Don’t work so much at the bar, I want you to be healthy,” she worriedly stated.

“Okay, I'll try…”

“So, what’s going on in your life? Have you met anyone?”

“Mother, must you always ask about my love life?”

“Ahaha, I know, only teasing. But is there anyone?” 

He sighed and thought of Bokuto, but then decided that two nights of talking to a customer didn’t count as being part of his love life. “No, of course not. I’m basically married to school.”

“Mm, well if you _do_ meet anyone, let me know, sweetie. How is everything with those two boys? The orange one and the grumpy one?”

 _‘The orange one, pfft.’_ “They’re really struggling, to be honest. It’s a big mess, but they’ll be okay. The thing that worries me is that I’ve been hearing about more and more missing person’s cases. I don’t know if it’s related to the incident Hinata went through or if it’s because I’ve been paying attention to the news more, and like, maybe that’s normal for New York and I just never realized it or what, but it’s kind of nerve-wracking.”

“I know, but the most we can do is put faith in the police and make smart decisions, like not walking alone downtown past midnight.”

“I know, I don’t.”

“And if anything happens, you let me know _immediately_ , you hear me?” she demanded.

“Okay, I will. We should go out for dinner sometime soon, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I would love that! Make sure to tell your father, too!” she exclaimed.

Akaashi felt sudden sadness shoot through his heart; his mother was suffering from alzheimer’s disease, which caused her to forget about his father’s death sometimes. He managed to hold back any emotions from showing and swallowed harshly, and nodded. “Right…”

Akaashi could see from behind his mother a certain someone strolling over to them, smiling and waving to a group of old ladies that were giggling like teenagers. “Well,” Akaashi began, “seems like you’re popular with the older generation.”

“Oh my god, I _know_ , those ladies are _so_ nice. Hello, Akaashi-san, how are you?” Oikawa stated.

“Oh my! It’s so nice to meet you, are you one of Keiji’s friends?” Oikawa was used to her forgetting who he was, so he knew what to expect whenever he saw her.

“Yes! My name is Oikawa Tooru,” he replied as they shook hands. The three chatted for about two hours and by the end of it Akaashi was pretty much just watching the two bond. He chuckled lightly when she said Oikawa was officially her favourite of all his friends; she said that _every time_ they met.

When it was time to go, Akaashi and his mother finished confirming plans for dinner sometime soon and he felt better than before. Sugawara was right, seeing his mother _did_ put him in a good mood. The two boys said their goodbyes and pleasantly drove back. 

“That was fun,” Oikawa voiced.

“You two sure get along well, that’s for sure,” Akaashi stated back.

“Oh, don’t be jealous, ‘ _sweetie,_ ’” he teased. Akaashi sent him a glare and muttered something about Oikawa being annoying, before deciding to rest his head on the cold glass window of the car. He closed his eyes and let the cool material ease his headache.“By the way, Keikei,” he began. Akaashi made a noise signalling he was listening and waited for him to continue, “Suga and I were thinking of hosting another group night, what do you think?” 

“Are you sure now is a good time for that?” the younger boy responded with his eyes still closed. Oikawa cursed angrily at a driver on the highway who had switched lanes way too close to their car.

“Dumbass driver, that was too close. Why wouldn’t now be a good time, because of Kageyama and Hinata? I feel like we should do it _precisely_ for that reason.”

Akaashi stayed quiet for a moment and then shifted in his seat, “If you guys want. Maybe bring it up to the group chat,” he suggested.

“Hm. What are you doing for the rest of the day?” 

The black haired boy coughed into his elbow and swore before he could respond, “Studying, and uh,” he sniffled, “trying to get better.”

“Ah, drink some tea and you’ll be fine,” he assured. 

“So, how long do you plan on staying?” Akaashi asked, finally opening his eyes. 

“Wh- You want me gone, huh! How mean!”

“Stop being a baby, I’m just wondering how long before you go crying into Iwaizumi’s arms.”

Oikawa gasped loudly, trying to be dramatic. “I- I’m not going to go _crying_!”

“But you _will_ go into his arms,” he continued to tease.

“Augh! You are such a rat, Keikei!” Akaashi snickered as Oikawa grew flustered and unsure of what to say back.

-

Akaashi plopped down onto his bed, closing his eyes peacefully as he tried to let his headache pass. He heard Oikawa rummaging through his kitchen and opened his eyes when his phone sounded, signalling a notification. Grabbing it from his night table, Akaashi turned to his side to see what was going on. A few emails, a Snapchat photo from Yamamoto, and about a million notifications from the group chat. In total, there were 14 members, though people invited others to their gatherings as well. The 14 consisted of Akaashi, Sugawara, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Kageyama, Hinata, Yamamoto, Nishinoya, Lev, Inouka, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Yaku and Ennoshita. _‘Looks like he asked them, after all,’_ he thought to himself. He scrolled through the texts, so many in capitals and a buttload of emoji’s as the hyper people expressed their excitement for another one of their hangouts. Eventually he got bored and switched to his gallery, opening his last photo; the note with the phone number. Akaashi read the slightly faded numbers over and over again in his head until he had it memorized, trying to decide on if he should delete the photo or send him a text. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Oikawa walking over to him, sitting down on the mattress and alerting Akaashi of his presence with the sudden movement of the bed. 

“Whatcha doing?” Oikawa asked with a mouthful of cereal. 

Akaashi looked up to him and laid his head back down, setting his phone on his chest, “Nothing. I have to study.”

“You looked pretty focused there, what was that~” he pondered playfully, wiggling his eyebrows.

“ _Nothing_. I was checking the group chat,” he said, trying to end the conversation before Oikawa’s curiosity got the best of him. It wasn’t a lie, so he felt fine ending it with that.

“Mhmm, _sure,_ ” Oikawa stated sarcastically.

After Oikawa finished eating he went to Kageyama’s side of the room and took out his laptop from his bag, choosing to focus on his studies. Akaashi unlocked his phone again to the photo and then opened his text messages, starting a new chat. Once he added the phone number to a new contact, his thumbs danced over the keyboard in thought of what to send. ‘ _“Hi”? No, too casual. “Hello, this is Akaashi.” No, I should make sure it’s him before giving my name… “Hello, is this Bokuto?”’_ is what he finally decided on. He sent the message and waited. With each passing second he grew more impatient and ultimately drew his attention to his textbooks, putting his phone on vibrate. Around 3 p.m. Akaashi stretched his back against the desk chair, clasping his hands in the air as he felt the knots in his back slowly being released. He yawned and drank some water, swallowed another vitamin C gummy and got up to use the washroom. When he returned, he saw Oikawa was still studying at Kageyama’s desk, earphones in as he was typing away with papers spread out around him. The black haired boy felt relieved to know that he was working hard, even if he and Iwaizumi weren’t on the best of terms. 

Opting to take a short break, Akaashi grabbed his phone and keys, made coffee, zipped up his coat and tied his shoes. He headed out the door and locked it behind him, and then pressed the downwards button. It was a nice afternoon, the sun was still out and there was a small breeze. Behind his condo parking lot was a park with a baseball field and a path to walk on, so he put his legs to work and took a sip of his coffee. When he reached the playground he took a seat on the bench and grabbed his phone from his pocket, and felt something flutter in his gut when he read there was a new message from Bokuto. After unlocking the phone, Akaashi opened the message to read it.

**From: Bokuto 2:38 p.m.**

**Hey hey hey! ur that pretty bartendr right? Akaashi? Wut took u so long?**

Akaashi read and re-read the text, figuring out what to say and feeling awkward at the ‘pretty bartender’ part. He hated himself for feeling so embarrassed, and he was unsure of if he should really keep talking to someone he barely knew. Finally, Akaashi made up his mind and began texting back. 

**To: Bokuto Kotarou 3:13 p.m.**

**Hello, yes, it’s Akaashi. My apologies, I was busy.**

He set his phone down next to him and looked up to see children playing on the swings, bellies facing the floor below as they twisted and turned the chains, and then lifted their feet off the ground as their small bodies went flying in the swings, unravelling and going back and forth. For a moment he envied the children who seemed to be so carefree, no worries whatsoever. Before his thoughts could go any farther, he felt a vibration as his phone signified a new notification. 

**From: Bokuto Kotarou 3:14 p.m.**

**Nah all gud! whz up? can i tak u on a date ??**

As soon as he read that, he felt completely caught off guard and flustered. His ears went red and his face twisted in confusion as he chewed on his bottom lip. His heart began to race at the thought of romance, so he quickly shut off his phone and accidentally dropped it in trying to tuck it away. Drinking a mouthful of coffee, Akaashi swallowed too much too fast and choked, allowing some of it to drip out the corners of his mouth. He picked up his phone and then got up from the bench and walked away, all the while still coughing it out. He took deep breaths and swore, _‘Fuck, I overreacted. It’s just a dumb question, what’s wrong with me?’_ For the next half hour Akaashi walked around the park in thought, and flinched when he felt his phone vibrate not just once, but twice, one after another. He reached for it yet again, coughing into his shoulder as he felt soreness in his throat. 

**From: Bokuto Kotarou 3:43 p.m.**

**U there??? i was thinking smthn fun, i hav sum ideas, lmk if u want 2 go n when ur available!**

**From: Oikawa Tooru 3:43 p.m.**

**Omfg there’s a centipede on the wall where tf r u**

**To: Bokuto Kotarou 3:44 p.m.**

**No. Why would I go on a date with someone I just met?**

**To: Oikawa Tooru 3:44 p.m.**

**I’m on my way back now.**

**From: Oikawa Tooru 3:44 p.m.**

**Omg hUrRy**

**From: Bokuto Kotarou 3:44 p.m.**

**Duh, 2 get 2 know them better!! Jus lmk wen, all u have to do is b ready and I’ll pick u up n pay for everythin! pleaseeeeeee?**

**To: Bokuto Kotarou 3:45 p.m.**

**I’ll think about it. I have to go, goodbye.**

**-**

Akaashi walked in to find Oikawa in the kitchen by the stove with his eyes towards the bedroom, presumably where the centipede was. He threw it out the window and laughed internally when he saw Oikawa suspiciously walking around, eyes wide open as if to be on the lookout for another bug.

“So,” Oikawa began, “the majority of the group decided on throwing a party this time, is that cool with you?”

“Ugh, count me out. You know I’m not much of a people-person,” he admitted.

“Oh my god, _please_ , we won’t invite as many people this time! And you don’t even have to drink, I’ll get you some mocktails or soda or something. 

“When is it even? I have work Thursday, Sunday and Monday. And whose house?”

“We were thinking Friday or Saturday night, probably at Inuoka’s or Yamamoto’s.”

“Oikawa… I have so much work to do, I can’t. I don’t think I’ll have fun, anyway.”

“Well you’ve got the whole week to think about it, please be there, boo! Even Shrimp-chan said he would go! It’s gonna be a _blast,”_ he finished with a peace sign. “Anyway, Iwa-chan said we’re going out tonight, so I’m gonna go now.”

“So you two are making up now, huh?” 

“More like making _out_ , once I get there~” he joked. Akaashi groaned in annoyance and waved him off as he turned to face his laptop. Oikawa grabbed his stuff and made his way out the door as he said goodbye, leaving Akaashi in the now empty compartment. He felt strange, it had been almost an entire week since Kageyama had stayed in his proper room, and Akaashi was beginning to wonder when he would come back. Not that he needed him there or anything, he was just slightly worried at this point. He took out his phone and checked his work schedule, seeing that he was mistaken; he worked only Thursday and Sunday night? He didn’t like it when he was given only two shifts in one week, but he accepted it regardless. He went to text Bokuto back in hopes of settling on what to do.

**To: Bokuto Kotarou 4:11 p.m.**

**Why are you asking me out?**

**From: Bokuto Kotarou 4:12 p.m.**

**cuz ur so cute! + interesting**

**To: Bokuto Kotarou 4:12 p.m**

**Those reasons aren’t very good.**

**From: Bokuto Kotarou 4:12 p.m.**

**Well, i jus rly like u! n wanna get 2 kno u better**

Akaashi’s brows furrowed in frustration and he tilted his head upwards and sighed, hoping that he wouldn’t regret what he was about to do. He thought for a moment, and then began typing.

**To: Bokuto Kotarou 4:14 p.m.**

**Wednesday afternoon.**

**From: Bokuto Kotarou 4:14 p.m.**

**Can’t do Wednesday, how bout thursday?**

**To: Bokuto Kotarou 4:15 p.m.**

**Wednesday, or no deal.**

**From: Bokuto Kotarou 4:15 p.m.**

**ok, i’ll free up my schedule! need ur address btw, and b ready for 5:30 !**

**To: Bokuto Kotarou. 4:15 p.m.**

**I’ll wait at the McDonald’s on the corner of Wellington and Main. Don’t keep me waiting, please.**

**From: Bokuto Kotarou 4:16 p.m.**

**ok! cant wait! wear smth comfy and stretchy, c u then ;)**

Akaashi placed his phone on do not disturb so he could focus on his work, and shook his head at Bokuto’s childish texting style. He thought of what to wear on Wednesday, and wondered what he had planned that required stretchy clothing. From what he perceived, Bokuto didn’t seem like a candle-lit dinner type of guy, or a movie-date guy. He didn’t know what to expect; what other types of dates were there? He would just have to wait for Wednesday to find out. 

-

Bokuto read over the messages and smiled in both determination and excitement. Setting his phone on the coffee table in front of him, Bokuto looked up to see Kuroo standing before the board with all the information that had been collected. His hands were on his hips as his eyes analyzed everything, his mind focused and concentrated. When he heard movement behind him, Kuroo turned around to see Bokuto walking over.

“So? Is it a go?” he asked.

“Ohh yeah, Wednesday night,” Bokuto answered.

“What- Wednesday? What happened to scouting tunnels?”

“Sorry, dude. He said ‘Wednesday, or no deal.’ Can’t we go tomorrow?”

“No, we still haven’t gotten the new weapons from HQ, remember? They arrive Tuesday at midnight, which is why we were gonna go Wednesday.”

“Shit, I forgot. Well I’m meeting him at 5:30, can we go earlier in the day? Or is the risk too high?”

“Kenma said the city has some sort of drain repairs going on throughout the day, so we can’t risk getting caught by the city workers. _That_ would be bad. Although, I could go on my own.” He placed a hand on his chin in thought and stared at one of the articles hanging on the wall. There was a photo next to it, held by a tack which had a bright red string tied to it that led to other pins. 

“... Want me to see if I can change the date with him? I don’t like the thought of you going alone.” Bokuto offered.

“No- no, don’t do that. We’ll just have to go Thursday. Anyway, what do you have planned for it? How are you gonna get close to this guy? Are we even sure he’s working with _him_?”

Bokuto didn’t know which question to answer first, so he went with the easiest, “We’re going to laser tag! It’s gonna be dope. Laser tag will surely get him to open up easier.”

“Mhm, and? What did he seem like at the bar? Did he seem like the sketchy type, the type to work with that guy?”

“I- I don’t know, he’s pretty smart, polite and kinda nervous and quiet.”

“Nervous, huh? We could use that to our advantage.”

“Hey, as far as we know, he’s a civilian. I mean-” he pointed to Akaashi’s information they had printed out on a paper on the wall- “just a history student, dead dad, mom with alzheimer’s-”

“We need to talk to the mother,” Kuroo cut him off.

“Bro, she’s old and sick, I don’t think it’s a good idea to interrogate her.”

“Shut up, we _need_ to. As of now, she is a suspect, along with her son. All we have to do is figure out how to get in, it might not look good if both of us go. We also need to find out which residency home she’s located in.”

“Want me-”

“I’ll do it, there’s no _way_ the guy wouldn’t suspect you if you went alone, or if you went with him it would be even more questionable if you started asking all those questions. So, I’ll go.”

“Kuroo, chill. I know how you feel, but you’re doing it again,” Bokuto reassured as he felt Kuroo getting agitated.

“Shut up!” he clenched his fists and stormed off with a beer in hand. “I’m _fine._ I’m gonna go shower.”

Bokuto scanned his eyes over all the information and thought of Akaashi, pleased with how things were going for their case. 

_Finally,’_ he pondered, _‘things are getting back into motion.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u all for ur patience and hv a good week


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh PC issues are annoying  
> Welcome back, thank you for your patience and enjoy!

3

Bokuto’s brows were furrowed and his shoulders were burning, his breathing was steady but fast paced as he huffed with each strenuous push up. _‘73, 74…’_ he eventually lost count as his mind wandered and thought of a million things, each notion worse than the previous. Soon enough he went into a robotic state, up and down his body moved, as he grew more and more concerned, his energy now running off of pure anger that was once dwelling in the far corners of his mind. He dug deeper and deeper into those corners, creating false truths, his face was now red from the rush of blood, his arms, neck and back were covered in sweat and yet his breathing was just as steadily fast as it was before.

“-to…”

Were they alive?

“-kuto…”

What if they weren’t even in the _state_ anymore? Or worse, the _country_?

“Dude-”

One thing, however was for sure: Bokuto was out for vengeance, and nothing, _no one,_ was going to get in his way.

“Bokuto! What the hell, man, chill out!” Kuroo yelled out. He crouched down and placed a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder, his grip hard and firm. Bokuto stopped mid push up with his eyes wide, and then sat on his calves as he closed his eyes. He slowed his breathing and looked to see Kuroo’s face, stern, with distress clouding his hazel eyes.

“What?” Bokuto trenchantly fired back, annoyed that he was interrupted in the middle of a good workout. He shrugged off the hand that was still on his shoulder, and stood to grab the water bottle that was on the nightstand.

Kuroo watched his friend take multiple large gulps of water and thought of what to say. “You know,” he began, “we’re a lot closer than we were at the start of this case.”

Bokuto stayed silent, placing the bottle back on its spot and waiting for Kuroo to continue.

“Overthinking isn’t gonna help anyone,-” he sighed as he ran his fingers through greasy hair and stood- “do you wanna go out for a drink?”

Bokuto put some thought into it and finally shook his head, “No, we shouldn’t waste time like that. I’m gonna go out for a run, and then I’ll get us some takeout. Then it’s back to work, yeah?”

“Oya? You’re using your brain, huh?” he smirked. At that, Bokuto hurled a pillow at Kuroo, who caught it and threw it back.

“Chinese?”

“Go for Vietnamese tonight.”

“Alright. See you in a bit,” he waved off as he exited the room. Heading to the front entrance, Bokuto slipped on a thin raincoat and old black running shoes. He grabbed his phone and wallet and left to cool his head in the brisk fall weather.

While on his run, Bokuto tried his best to put the overwhelming ‘what if’s’ away, instead putting his mind on his surroundings. It was windy and he only spotted three other people, which gave off a sketchy and mysterious mood to the neighbourhood. After half an hour, he finally walked over to a nearby plaza and bought food from a family-owned restaurant, and while on his way back, he took out his phone, opening the messages sent between Akaashi and himself. Skimming through them, Bokuto pondered as to who exactly Akaashi might be. He _seemed_ innocent, from the outside, at least. Like what was mentioned before, they know that he is an only child with a mother in a retirement home and he is majoring in history in university. They also knew a few things from American databases and background documents they managed to get, such as his birthday, address, Japanese citizenship, blah blah blah. What Bokuto _didn’t_ know, however, was that Akaashi was, in fact, quite intriguing; and he didn’t know how to feel about it.

Bokuto was a pretty loquacious person and, outside of work, he _loved_ to socialize. When it came to serious cases such as the current one, he had to set personal emotions and social skills aside. His work was (supposed to be) straightforward: Be given a case, work on it, do whatever it takes to solve it, and move on. Although this particular situation he and Kuroo were in did bother them both on personal levels (because of the individuals involved), they both knew when those emotions were getting in the way, and how to put a stop to them. ‘Stay cool headed, stay smart,’ as they were taught. So, if those feelings weren’t present, how was it that Bokuto was able to feel somewhat drawn to a citizen he had just met merely _two days_ ago? He’d never felt like that before and his curiosity was beginning to get the better of him. He knew he couldn’t tell Kuroo; the man might just explode at the thought of Bokuto having any sort of… _feelings_ for someone. He shuddered, and opted to keep whatever he was truly feeling to himself. It would pass, right? Bokuto couldn’t let this guy, this possible _suspect_ , get in the way of his work. Nope, it would **not** happen, and he was sure of it. _‘Stay cool, stay smart. Keep undercover, solve the case, solve the case, **solve the case and save my teammates**.’ _

-

“Okay, refresh. Rewind, let's backtrack and go from the top. What do we know?” Kuroo asked, placing his now empty bowl on the coffee table. He stood up, licked his lips for any excess food remains and wiped his hands on his jeans. Grabbing a bright red marker, Kuroo began to write on a large whiteboard.

“Hmm… Since he’s popped up again, multiple cases of kidnappings all within the span of a month. Western Maine, Colorado, Louisiana, New Mexico, Southeastern California and now New York. In total, from April 3rd to September 7th, ~564 cases across 6 states alone, all with the same MO. Granted how many people go missing in a day in the U.S., a lot of these kidnappings could be unrelated and we may have missed some, but we’ve somewhat narrowed it down to the ones whose reports seem to fit this guy’s methods.” Bokuto read off a note.

“Right. And remind me, what happened back in March?”

“Uh… political disagreements worsened a _lot_.”

“Uh huh… What’s his MO?”

“Easy and weak targets, mainly healthy young boys and girls; teens but also young adults. Night time kidnappings, a lot were reported around 4 to 9 a.m., so we assume the abductions usually occur around midnight.”

“We’ve got a lot of guesswork going on here. Okay, what do these guys all have in common, other than their age range?” Kuroo asked.

“Mostly non-North Americans, fairly good health, students studying abroad here, lots of kids who live alone, uhh yeah that’s pretty much it,” Bokuto finished, looking up from multiple papers to see Kuroo scribbling away.

“God, that’s such general information… Alright, then, the next pointer is we’ve been tracking him for years but he went silent from 2015 up until April of this year. We started in California-” he pointed to a large scale map hung on the wall with the back end of the marker- “and have had two other teams tracking them in different states. They were in New Mexico and Colorado, and then we took complete control over the case in August, where we headed up towards New York from Louisiana. You following me?”

“Yup, we have had one run in with one of his top subordinates in Louisiana, that’s where we fucked up. That was the only time since he’s shown up again that we’ve gotten a glimpse of his group whatsoever.”

“That’s… our only ‘success,’ if you will, in this whole case so far. We were able to follow them as they travelled all the way north from Maine, across Vermont and then to the middle of New York, but now we’ve lost them,” Kuroo elaborated as he dragged the marker across the map.

“Here’s what we managed to find out from that run-in in Louisiana: The big boss’s name is Hirohito Akaashi, from what we know so far he’s part of the largest organ trafficking affiliation in the US. We think he might also be tied to drug trafficking across North, Central and South America, and the last time his legal records were updated were from before he turned 18.”

“So, other than his name and very basic info, we don’t have anything solid on him. We don’t know what he looks like, his whereabouts, or what his plans are, if any. Although, we _have_ made ties to his relatives; his brother who supposedly passed away in 2014, and his sister-in-law, Niko Akaashi, as well as his nephew, Keiji Akaashi. Both parents passed away in Japan in 2011, and we don’t know if he had or has a spouse, kids, et cetera.”

“Right, so our best lead right now is going undercover, which is what I’m doing with Keiji. I’ll see if he knows anything and if he’s working with his uncle-”

“That’s not all,” he cut Bokuto off, “Kenma said he’s going to gather intel on the survivors and what they’ve told the police about their experiences, see if we can pinpoint any possible locations. Otherwise we have to find a way to interrogate Niko, or interrogate the few survivors.”

“I don’t like the idea of asking a sick old lady questions about her dead husband’s sketchy brother… How many escapees are there?” Bokuto asked.

Kuroo stepped away from the board and rummaged through some papers, eyeing the part of the wall that was covered in strings, tacks, tape, newspaper article pieces and other important information-filled artifacts. They had a list of the victims whose kidnappings fit Hirohito’s MO, documents detailing information on these victims, and next to these were photos of the few that managed to escape. The red strings that criss-crossed across the map of America were fraying and loose, and each tack had dates underneath it to signify consequential events. On the adjacent wall, they had various forms, notes, photos and another map with blue string to illustrate their previous knowledge on Hirohito, from before he vanished. They had a board with theories and failed plans from throughout the years, clues as to his whereabouts and people they have lost in the process. A desk by the whiteboard held two laptops, each with numerous tabs, sticky notes surrounded them and scattered pens and markers covered the small wooden surface. All in all, they were a mess, yet they somehow were able to -for the most part- keep track of the data they had collected

Kuroo set down his papers and walked over to a laptop, opening his emails to find one he received from Kenma some hours ago. “One… No, two, as of May. One Carlos Gomez, missing for two days, hmm, when he was found he was selectively mute and supposedly ‘doesn’t remember what happened,’ and one Shouyou Hinata, gone for a week, hasn’t said much to the police on what he experienced.”

“So, will they be helpful?” he questioned truthfully.

“Doesn’t look that way… We should still try. Let’s see, Carlos Gomez lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and Shouyou Hinata is in… goddamn- Rochester, New York!” Kuroo exclaimed. He picked up the red marker again and wrote those details down excitedly, his handwriting becoming messier with each letter as his muscles could not keep up with how fast his mind was thinking.

“What else?” Bokuto ponderd.

“When did we get here, to NewYork?”

“Uhh, one week ago? And we lost track of them about five days ago when we were around Syracuse, right?”

“Right… How, how the _hell_ did we lose track of him? We placed a tracker on one of his guys after our run-in in Louisiana, so what the hell happened? How did it get cut off so suddenly?”

“Maybe they found it when he escaped and went back to them?”

“No way, Kiyoko did the surgery _perfectly_ , even _I_ couldn’t tell where the tracker was. Either this guy did something to his body that potentially broke it, or they’re somewhere that there’s absolutely no signal whatsoever. How is that possible? It’s _New York_.”

Bokuto and Kuroo thought silently, trying to figure out the mystery. Suddenly Kuroo opened up a notebook and sat in front of one of the laptops, his right hand typing away as his left hand flipped through, searching for a specific note. Bokuto was about to call out and ask what was going on when he remembered Kuroo would be too focused to answer, and chose to stay quiet as he waited.

“There…” he began, “has to- it’s, he’s somewhere, there’s somewhere here in this state that’s _so_ old and _so_ well hidden that it’s untouched by modern-day New York, but how are we going to find it? Maybe underground…” he thought out loud. Grabbing a pen, Kuroo wrote a few notes down and then put the tip in his mouth and began to chew on it as his eyes scanned over his computer screen. For a brief moment Bokuto felt useless, he was mostly the muscles of the two and Kuroo was the brains, so he had no idea what to do in the current situation. Dragging his eyes away from his partner, Bokuto read over the abundance of data on the walls, and exhaled.

“Underground, like the subway tunnels?”

“Maybe, but even those usually have connections to track where the vehicles are and such. Plus, how would they do dealings and stuff there? Not going to rule it out completely, but I have a feeling that’s not it. You should go to the bar again, see if you can find out more about that Keiji guy.”

“Right… On it.” At that, Bokuto gave Kuroo a firm pat on the back as if to say _‘Good luck,’_ and let him be.

-

Bokuto liked drinks. He liked drinking with his friends, at parties and events and such. He didn’t really like solo drinking, didn't find it as enjoyable as opposed to social drinking. So when he headed to the bar again that night, he felt the sight of a rowdy house party nearby pulling him towards it, calling to him. However, Bokuto was able to control that urge and got straight to work and by the time he pulled up to _Dominique’s_ , his mind was focused on what to talk about with Akaashi. He definitely fancied Akaashi’s company and was engrossed by him, and was actually kind of looking forward to their date coming up. _‘Wait-’_ he thought, stopping in his tracks- _‘I can’t have this feeling for someone, the team- no, the case comes first.’_ He shook his head and trudged on to the large mahogany doors, eyeing the brightly lit sign, it’s neon red colours piercing through the darkened sky around it. Pushing on the cylindrical brass door handle, Bokuto immediately sensed a warm breeze kiss his skin, and he watched as the waiters and waitresses skillfully maneuvered around people walking by while balancing multiple trays holding plates of food. He marched over to the bar and took a seat, waving to a young bartender as she finished up a drink and served it.

“Hello, how are you tonight?” she asked. She had long light brown hair that was tied back in a ponytail, reaching down to her mid-back. The girl wore a long sleeve black shirt with a v neck, and black pants. She had a small figure and her honey-coloured eyes gave off a soft expression; she was quiet, but not shy.

“Not bad! Hey, I was wondering, is Akaashi in tonight?” he questioned.

She looked taken-aback for a small moment, before relaxing her face yet again. Bokuto thought maybe it wasn’t often that someone asked for Akaashi. “Pardon, if I may, who is asking?”

“Just- a friend, sort of.”

“Hold on!” a man interrupted. “How do _you_ know Akaashi? I know all his friends, but I’ve never seen _you_ before. Savannah, who is he?” The man looked to be Bokuto’s age and had fluffy brown hair, he was tall, Bokuto could see that even though he was sitting. He might have been Bokuto’s height, or maybe just an inch or two shorter. The man wore a long black reefer coat with a sacramento turtleneck, meaning this guy k _new_ style, he was the type of guy that could rock just about anything he wore.

“Oikawa, please calm down.”

“Can I help you, Mr. _Oikawa_?” Bokuto sneered.

“ _Mister-_ Augh, Savannah, I need something _strong_ to be able to control myself around this guy.”

“You’re overreacting, please do not treat a customer like this. What _you_ need is Iwaizumi, and a glass of water to cool your head,” she stated matter-of-factly. Savannah, the bartender, turned to grab something and stopped halfway, glancing up at Bokuto, “Oh, he’s not working tonight.” With that, she left and he watched her walk away before looking back to Oikawa.

“So, you know Akaashi, too?” he pondered.

“Yeah! How do _you_ know him?” Oikawa wondered with an accusing tone and a finger stretched out at Bokuto.

“Oh, we started talking a few days ago, we’re supposed to go on a date on Wednesday.”

Oikawa gaped, eyebrow twitching in shock with his finger still pointed at Bokuto. His breathing got cut off and he didn’t know what to think or say. A date? _Akaashi?_ Surely they were talking about two different people, there’s no _way_ Akaashi would go on a date. He was too… independent, isolated. He refused to even go _clubbing_ with him, so how in the hell did he accept a date? Oikawa lowered his hand, closed his mouth and frowned in thought at the man before him. _‘Well,’_ he thought, raising an eyebrow, _‘he **is** quite an impressive man, I mean just look at those muscles. God damn.’_

“A date? Really...” Oikawa inquired.

“Yup!” Bokuto cheerfully responded.

“Well… in that case, you should come to a party our group is throwing on Saturday night! Just bring yourself, no plus ones. Also, Akaashi will be there~” Oikawa invited.

“Ooh! Sounds good, just need time and place!” Bokuto said. Oikawa rotated in his seat to face Savannah, who was quietly drying cups. He smiled and tapped on the counter to get her attention, and then asked for a pen. He then proceeded to scribble on a napkin and handed it to Bokuto with a grin and devious eyes, as if he was planning something. Bokuto took it, looked down at the information and thanked Oikawa. He laughed internally at the sudden bond, and at Oikawa, who went from angry and suspicious to inviting him to a party within the minute. Maybe the guy was tipsy, he didn’t seem to even hesitate to give a stranger (what he presumed to be) a house address.

“Best not to tell Akaashi that you’re going. By the way, didn’t catch your name,” Oikawa said.

“Oh, Bokuto, nice to meet’cha. Anyway, since Akaashi won’t be working, I’m gonna head out.”

“Same, see you Saturday, then?”

“Yup, see ya!”

Bokuto got up from the stool and straightened out his coat as he waved goodbye to Savannah and Oikawa. Pushing the heavy doors open, Bokuto whistled in thought. Should he tell Akaashi he was invited? He wondered what his reaction might be. He shook his head in thought, _‘Whatever, it’s not like it’s a big deal, anyway.’_

Bokuto took out the keys to the small car and unlocked it, feeling how cold the smooth steel door handle was against his skin. It was a Tuesday night, and September’s weather was treating New York rather harshly. He stepped in and shut the door behind him, tensing at the feel of the cool material of the seat on his body and rubbed his hands together in an attempt to warm up. Bokuto twisted the keys in and turned the heaters on to the highest setting, put on his seatbelt and backed out of the parking lot. He sensed sudden unspecified nostalgia wash over him and played the radio, opting to drive anywhere, so long as it wasn’t straight back to Kuroo. He needed to be out, needed to get away for a bit, so Bokuto blasted music with the windows down. Yes, it was absolutely freezing and yes, in the eyes of other drivers, he looked like an obnoxious teenager in some drama film, but he didn’t care; this case was really getting to him and he didn’t know what to do. Bokuto was taught to leave personal issues and emotions at the door, or to not have them at all. ‘Makes the job easier. You have no use for menial things like that.’ From birth to his current age of 23, Bokuto had lived by these words and although he may have been gregarious and outgoing and all these other things, he and his teammates knew their realities; they were mere pawns, and they could not afford emotions. Bokuto knew this, he _knew_ this god damn it, so why was this getting to him? Was it because he basically grew up with the members that were missing? His heart ached and his brows furrowed in both concern and frustration, he bit his lip and gripped the steering wheel even harder. Passing by a brightly lit _Starbucks_ , Bokuto’s mind continued to flow with memories of his team. Bokuto’s life was working for the organization and he’d never had an issue with it before, he watched people die, he’s _taken_ lives himself, and it never bothered him, not consciously at least. Having never attended a proper North American or Japanese school, Bokuto was raised to be a _perfect_ candidate for this type of work. It wasn’t just him either, it was in his bloodline, his aunt was a powerful leader in the organization and his parents before him worked with it as well. Did they have these same issues?

Bokuto wondered if the situation was affecting Kuroo as much as it was him. As far as he knew, Kuroo really only ever worried for Kenma, which is why he forced him to stay in Illinois with the other team members, rather than risk getting caught by Hirohito.

Pulling over to a small empty parking lot behind a _Dollar Store_ , Bokuto sat with the windows down and the ignition still on, the wind roaring through his car as he thought of nothing in particular. He twisted the keys back out and sat in silence, listening to only the powerful gusts hitting everything in its path with the force of ocean waves on a stormy night. He took it in, let the gale control and move him this way and that. The wind calmed down for a moment, so he took the chance to pop open the glove compartment and took out a small box of spliffs, lit it and put it to his lips. After a few minutes, Bokuto noticed the air had steadied a bit and eyed a ladder leading to the roof of the store he was parked behind. It looked old, worn out and rusted. It didn’t even look like it was in use; a few of the steps were either missing, bent or broken, the dark red colour was splotchy and the paint was flaking off.

Without locking the doors or rolling the windows up, Bokuto huffed out a final breath and hopped out of the vehicle, heading straight for the ladder. The air was crisp on his rough calloused skin, his muscles tensed with each icy breeze and he could see his breath as every warm exhale fogged up in front of him. Placing his hands on each side of the cold ladder, left foot sturdy on the bottom step, Bokuto bounced lightly on his right foot as he tugged on the structure. It creaked and it was quite wobbly, but Bokuto deemed it safe enough to climb. Even if he did fall, the wall was ‘only’ about 4 or 5 metres high, so he let his confidence lead him and pushed off the ground. The ladder squeaked and groaned, but Bokuto pushed on. Soon enough he reached the top and he threw his leg over the edge as the last step was missing, and he expired, standing up straight with his hands on his hips. Bokuto looked around, noticing how hushed it was. The air was still and the city was asleep, yet a few plaza lights were on and they illuminated the darkened night like little twinkling stars, giving him a strange sense of isolation. Kenopsia took over him as he gazed out onto the dark horizon of nothingness that flowed all throughout the common, and Bokuto wondered what it was like to be a part of that darkness that came from above, to gaze down apathetically on humans who strived for more but valued less.

The wind picked up once again and Bokuto moved toward the ledge opposite of him and sat cross legged on the bumpy surface. Resting his chin on his palm, he stared at the emptiness and felt the heaviness of sleep pulling him into a hollow dream. Soon enough, Bokuto’s heart was lost in a senseless wave of gloom, his mind tugging at a long numbed soul.

-

Akaashi huffed as he looked at himself in the mirror. _‘Comfy clothing, what’s that even mean? I consider all my clothing comfy. Why would I have it if it wasn’t comfortable to wear?’_ He turned his back to the mirror and followed the reflection of the seam going down his blue jeans, judging his body and trying to decide on whether he should change again or not. Glancing at his phone that was on the sink counter, Akaashi thought about cancelling. He barely knew the guy, they had spoken twice, _twice_ , how did Bokuto have so much confidence? And for gosh sake, why, _why_ did Akaashi agree to go?

Thankfully, the cold symptoms he was experiencing seemed to have died down for the time being. He left to find a new outfit, peeling off his skinny jeans and, when he heard his phone go off, stumbled in a rush to see the contents of the text. Was it Bokuto? Did he want to cancel, or at least postpone? Akaashi’s heart dropped to his stomach at the notion and he despised that that was his initial reaction. Picking up his phone, he saw it was a message from Oikawa.

**From: Oikawa Tooru 3:47 p.m.**

**Have fun today~**

**To: Oikawa Tooru 3:48 p.m.**

**What?**

**From: Oikawa Tooru 3:48 p.m.**

**Hehe idk when it is but i hope it goes/went well, spill the deets pls**

**To: Oikawa Tooru 3:48 p.m.**

**???**

**From: Oikawa Tooru 3:48 p.m.**

**;) xo**

Oikawa befuddled him, how in the _hell_ did he know? Maybe he was thinking of something else? Fuck, he was screwed if anyone, especially Oikawa, knew he was going on a date. His friends were irritatingly garrulous, they’d _never_ let it go and would surely force the details out of him. He groaned loudly and rolled his head in annoyance.

“Huh?” Kageyama asked aloud after hearing Akaashi complain.

“Ughhh,” was all he responded with. He banged his head on the bathroom door frame lightly but hard enough to be heard.

“... Okay.” Kageyama replied from his bed, and that was that.

After rummaging through his drawer, Akaashi finalized his decision with a pair of high waisted jeans. They may not be the stretchiest, but god damn it he was not about to go out in joggers, no, those were too much like pyjama pants and Akaashi was a man of _class_ if he did say so himself. Also, his ass looked good in these jeans, but he would never admit that out loud. He agreed that whatever he decided to wear, he would wear it _first_ to impress himself , and _then_ to impress Bokuto, a little. It _was_ a date, after all.

Akaashi then grabbed a baggy thin grey long-sleeve t-shirt that was detailed with thick horizontal dark green stripes. After tucking it in in the front, he slipped on a black belt, white ankle socks, and the same black vans that he always wore. _‘Good enough.’_ Glancing at the small black digital clock that sat on a shelf, Akaashi saw he still had a whole hour and 15 minutes before he had to leave. His heart was racing, why was he so nervous? _‘Calm down, calm down. Deep breaths,’_ he thought to himself. Straightening his back, Akaashi adjusted his shirt and fixed his hair, concluding his appearance. With a nod to himself, the boy exited the washroom and sat down at his desk, withdrawing a textbook from his bag. He noticed how shabby it looked, its corners were bent inwards and there were indented scrapes all over the printed front. The inside of the cover had a name written in blue pen, the bottom left had a large brown stain of some sort (he assumed it was coffee) and a few of the pages were ripped. The back cover was completely gone, but all in all, it was in… good enough shape. Akaashi managed to buy it used from a messy third year student, which saved him quite a bit of money. After playing some relaxing music and setting a timer, Akaashi tossed his phone to the side and got to work. He pushed all ‘useless’ thoughts (aka Bokuto/the date) out and let his determination for school guide him through the next hour.

Akaashi flinched when he heard the timer on his phone go off, he was so indulged in what he was doing that he had completely forgotten about anything else. It was 5:05 p.m., so he organized his desk and put his notes away. Once he was ready to leave, he looked over to his roommate who was passed out on his bed. Akaashi quietly walked up to him and stood by his bed, trying to decide on if he should wake him up, send him a text or leave a note with his whereabouts for the evening.

“Kageyama,” he lightly called out. Seeing how there was no response, not even a grunt, Akaashi cleared his throat and tried again.

“Kageyama.” At that, one eyelid barely opened, and Kageyama rolled onto his side to face the wall. Akaashi sighed, “I’m going out for a few hours.” The sleepy roommate groaned, and within seconds he was back to snoring soundly.

The Main and Wellington crossing was not a fun one. The drivers were crazy and the pedestrians weren’t much better, any time he was in the vicinity, Akaashi saw someone do something dangerous or straight up illegal. Maybe this intersection was cursed. As he waited for the light to change, Akaashi checked his watch for the time. 5 minutes until their arranged meet up. His hands became cold and damp; cold sweat was always a symptom of anxiety for him. The light turned green and soon enough the crosswalk signal followed. Akaashi breathed in cold air, feeling how it stung against the warmth of his inner nostrils. He strutted forward with an invisible leash of confidence attached, guiding, pulling, _forcing_ him to go on and not chicken out. If he didn’t like Bokuto, he wouldn’t go on another date, simple as that. He’ll be fine. So long as he was a law-abiding citizen, Akaashi was going to be okay, or so he told himself.

When he reached the _McDonalds_ , he took a seat on an old fashioned red stool. It was covered by a cheap old pleather, cracking on the sides to reveal little puffs of cotton popping out. Turning to the windows, Akaashi searched for a familiar face and, when he couldn’t find one, he pulled out his phone to check the time (again) and for any new messages. 5:33 p.m., no new messages. _‘So much for “don’t keep me waiting.”’_ He huffed and began to rotate back towards the centre of the McDonalds. He opened a word search game and focused his mind on it, trying to distract himself.

“Hey-” Akaashi jumped in his seat, his phone went flying across the table and he spun around when he heard a deep voice behind his right ear. With widened eyes, Akaashi gasped and clutched a hand over his chest.

“Oh my god- don’t _do_ that!” he exclaimed when he saw Bokuto, simultaneously reaching for his phone. He felt embarrassed and slipped off of the stool.

Bokuto snickered, attempting to hold his laughter back. “Sorry, sorry. Couldn’t help myself, you looked so pretty and concentrated but I figured I shouldn’t keep you waiting. Actually, I got here like 20 minutes ago, but I was in the washroom when you arrived.”

“Hm, well, you still kept me waiting,” Akaashi replied. In reality he didn’t care, but he wanted to test Bokuto’s patience with him.

“Awh, I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you next time,” Bokuto pleaded.

“Who says there’s gonna be a next time?” They proceeded to make their way to the exit, Akaashi following Bokuto to his car.

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see for yourself, won’t you?” Bokuto grinned. Akaashi blushed lightly at the way he spoke, but he wasn’t sure if Bokuto meant for that simple phrase to sound so ominous and… cool.

The ride was quiet for the first few minutes, both of them unsure of what to say. “Where are we going?” Akaashi finally broke the silence.

Before Bokuto responded, he looked over to see what he was wearing, raising an eyebrow at the jeans. Were jeans considered to be comfortable and stretchy? Regardless, he looked very nice, and here Bokuto was, in black joggers and a bright red short sleeve skin tight athletic tee. Over top that was a large jean jacket, an owl patch decorating the right shoulder. “Tsk tsk, you willingly got in some random stranger's car without even asking where we were going beforehand? You should be more careful, Akaashi~”

“Pardon me? Is there a reason I should feel threatened or in danger? This is supposed to be a _date_ , correct me if I’m wrong.”

“Haha, no, no, don’t worry, I’m just messing with you.”

“Well, there you have it. Care to answer my question, then?”

“...It’s something fun, something you probably haven’t done since you were a kid. You’ll see. So anyway, tell me about yourself, favourite food, where have you travelled to, do you play any sports?”

With his elbow resting on the door handle and his chin in his palm, Akaashi looked straight ahead of them. “Onigiri, Japan and America, I used to play volleyball,” he answered monotonously.

“Oh! I used to play recreational volleyball, I was a super awesome ace! What was your position?”

“... Setter.”

“Ohohoho? I bet you were an incredible setter!” he declared.

Akaashi opted to stay silent, staring at the cars around them. “What do you do? Are you in school, or do you work?”

“My buddy and I are cops back in Maine!”

“What? Really?! At your age? Wait… how old are you, anyway?” Akaashi blurted out, first in shock and then in suspicion as he realized he didn’t even know Bokuto’s age.

“23!”

“You can be a cop at age 23…?” he said, sitting back in his seat.

“Oh yeah, the youngest a cop can be is 19, haha!”

“Wow, that’s… respectable. And here I was, thinking you were some sort of stalker-creep.”

“What?! I am not a stalker _or_ a creep, Akaashi! What made you think that?”

“Well, for starters, you asked me out on a date after just _two days_ of talking to me. Not to mention the way you showed up at the bar the first time. Also, just now, with the whole ‘getting in a strangers’ car thing’.”

“What- I feel offended,” he pouted.

“Now I know you’re not a stalker-creep, though.”

“That’s true,” he replied.

5 minutes of silence went by, the only sound being Bokuto’s cursing as the car swiveled which made Akaashi wonder if Bokuto was a certified driver. They both sensed awkwardness rising, so the younger of the two attempted to start a conversation, “Do you have any interesting cop stories? We citizens love a good murder,” he tittered. Bokuto guffawed, slamming his left hand harshly on the steering wheel.

“Oh, I’m well aware. However…” he stretched his neck out past the wheel, golden eyes searching the environment. “we, my good sir, have arrived at our destination. We’ll have to save the stories for another time,” he finished. Pulling into a parking spot, Akaashi observed their surroundings in an attempt to pinpoint what exactly their ‘destination’ was. _‘Oh gods almighty please do **not** tell me this grown ass 23 year old police man is taking me to **laser tag** , of all things.’_

He plastered a smile onto his face and turned to Bokuto, who was taking off his seatbelt. “Bokuto,” he began, “are we, by chance, going to that movie theatre? Because if so, I believe there are parking spots much closer-”

“Nope! Laser tag,” he replied with a duplicitous smile. Before he could retaliate, Bokuto was closing the door and Akaashi rushed out after him. “Um, laser tag? I don’t think I’ve ever done that. Isn’t it something for, you know, children?”

“No way! It’s not exclusive, laser tag is for all ages to enjoy!” Bokuto fired back. Akaashi chose to let it go, doubt filled his mind and frankly, he was not looking forward to this. However, he at least had the decency to see this through to the end and not hurt Bokuto’s feelings.

When they walked in, the building was buzzing with excitement. There seemed to be a birthday party going on as a group of kids sat at a table by the arcade area, parents stood around with cameras flashing and a large cake was sitting in the centre of the table, waiting to be eaten. Another part of the premises held small escape rooms, one of which a couple had just exited, exhilaration on their faces as they chatted about the experience with one another. Bokuto walked up to a young man at the counter and proceeded to sign them up for the next available round of the game.

“Hey, what do you want your nickname to be?” Bokuto asked.

“Keiji is fine,” he replied from his seat by the wall.

He came back wielding two plastic yellow tages with a small circular metallic piece affixed on one end, and handed one to Akaashi. After thanking him, Akaashi grew nervous in anticipation of what was to come. Why laser tag of all things? Was this guy serious?

“So, what made you choose laser tag?” he asked as politely as he could.

“Hm? Why not?”

“I- uhh, okay then…” Akaashi was puzzled, unsure of what to say or think. He was not expecting that response. He stared hard at Bokuto as said man looked at the building in awe. Akaashi just realized he had never gotten an actual thorough look at him, and felt tempted to touch his muscles. This guy was _huge,_ just how much did he weigh? As if reading his mind, Bokuto took off his coat to reveal thews outlined by a _very tight_ red shirt. _‘He could kill someone. He could kill me. Hold on, he’s a cop, maybe he has **actually** killed someone! No, no, don’t think like that, Keiji. It’s fine, stop overthinking.’_ He breathed out and patiently waited for an employee to call them for their turn.

After a few minutes of random chatter, the two saw an employee open a pair of doors and call out their group name. The room was dark, except for white clothing and signs illuminated by black lights. Once the instructions were given, they walked into yet another darkened room with the vests and laser guns hanging near the walls. A countdown began and Akaashi stood a bit closer to Bokuto, eyeing the other people around them. Bokuto took notice of this, and handed him a vest.

“It’ll be fun, don’t worry! If you want, you can just stick with me,” he offered. Bokuto smiled as he watched Akaashi struggle to find the other strap to tighten the vest. He reached over to help, and gasped as Akaashi slapped his hand away.

“I can do it,” he firmly stated. The larger man rubbed his hand in exaggeration and pouted, “Rude!” To be fair, Akaashi didn’t consider himself to be very athletic nowadays, and even if he was, the last thing he would expect was a childish game of _laser tag_ as a _first date_. He found it incredibly strange, and quite frankly, confusing. After all, how is one expected to get to know the other in a game where you’re running around in the dark? He was not looking forward to this whatsoever.

Suddenly the doors opened and the sound of running feet and excited children was all that was heard. Bokuto motioned for Akaashi to follow him, which he did. All around him were black walls and tall structures, a mist clouded the room and the only visible materials were neon decorations and false red lasers, shooting from multiple locations and pointed to the ceiling. _‘I seriously cannot believe I’m doing this right now. Of all people to play a silly game, I’d consider myself a last resort. Absolutely ridiculous.’_ He huffed out in annoyance as he trailed behind Bokuto, not even paying attention to where they were headed. Left and right they went, up some ramps and hiding behind corners. Bokuto peered around a corner and jumped back when he saw another player begin to shoot at him. Racing over to the next structure, Bokuto gripped onto his gun, holding it close to his face with his back slightly hunched as he creeped around, looking for the player that was now hidden.

“Ha _HA_!” he yelled as he hopped around yet another corner, spotting the player from their spot. From where Akaashi was standing, he could see Bokuto’s toothy smile, lit up by the vest lights, excitedly pulling the trigger and laughing when he managed to shoot at a target on their body. Turning to Akaashi, Bokuto’s arms shot into the air in triumph, “Woo! Come on,” he gestured to the silent boy as he walked by him.

With a stubborn face, Akaashi slowly followed and nearly jumped out of his skin when he eyed another player nearby. They sped to the other side of a tall rectangular structure, and Akaashi automatically hid behind a corner. He could hear the other player shooting, trying to aim through a small amorphous hole in the wall. Akaashi took hold of his gun and looked around, unable to find Bokuto. He took a deep breath in, crouched around the corner and began shooting, only to see the player was now gone from the hiding spot. Akaashi aligned the gun to his eye as he copied Bokuto’s previous stance, and walked backwards, keeping a sharp eye out for the other person. All of a sudden, the small player, presumably a child, made a run for it and Akaashi shot as much as he could to the flashing targets on their shoulders. He heard the sound of alarming wails coming from the childs’ vest, meaning Akaashi was successful. A satisfied smile formed on his face, and for a moment, he seemed to enjoy the game.

Akaashi’s eyes traced the space around him, still searching for Bokuto. _‘Where could he have gone?’_ He attempted to follow in the direction he was headed, but no avail. He couldn’t believe it; he got ditched. How affront. He knew the game only lasted about 15 minutes, so he decided to continue on his own, meanwhile thinking of what he would say once he found Bokuto again. The boy stayed on his toes, heart pounding anxiously. Akaashi struggled to take proper hold of his gun as his nervous hands shook, he felt the pressure grow as he ran and bumped into a few other people. Rather than focus on gaining points, Akaashi opted to catch his breath and stay hidden with his back against a corner on the wall. At this point he was straight up frustrated and annoyed. Staring at the long dark wall ahead of him, Akaashi thought of what to do next. No one seemed to be around him, so he stayed put and waited for the game to end. _‘It’s not like I **have** to like this, right? It’s just not my kinda thing. No reason to feel bad.’_ Akaashi checked the time and sighed as the minutes slowly ticked by.

Bokuto was having a blast. Not only did he enjoy competitive activities, he was used to this kind of stuff- well, laser tag kind of stuff. Similar to how a police academy would hold makeshift save-the-hostage’s mission’s, the organization Bokuto worked for also did the same thing as a form of training. Hence, he was used to laser tag training, although it was usually with paintballs or simple water guns. He never got sick of these exercises because he would treat them as games, and would compete with the opposing team.

This time, however, Bokuto got a little carried away and ran off without realizing Akaashi wasn’t behind him. Before he knew it, he was stuck on a ramp with one player on a platform above him, and one on the floor below him. With his tongue sticking out in concentration, Bokuto fastened his hands tightly on the weapon and jumped around a corner, chasing after the player that was above him. He managed to not get hit once and was extremely successful; this _was_ his forte, after all. By the time he remembered Akaashi, he was long gone and Bokuto cursed to himself internally for being _‘such a stupid idiot.’_ So, the search began. He told himself it shouldn’t be too hard to find him even in this darkness; Akaashi was tall, surely he could spot him fairly easily, right? He wondered how much time was left in the game, and was curious as to what Akaashi would say to Bokuto once they met up.

Akaashi was about to check the time again when he noticed someone running towards him. He could make out the body shape and height, and recognized the person as Bokuto. He prepared for the confrontation as he straightened his back and waited for him to catch up.

“Hey!” Bokuto huffed out.

“Hi,” Akaashi answered with a deadpan tone.

“Sorry I left you back there, haha,” Bokuto nervously excused, smiling unsurely.

“It’s fine. Let’s continue the game.”

Bam. Just like that, Bokuto knew something was wrong. Sure, Akaashi might be a very nonchalant and taciturn person, so one may argue that it’s hard to tell if he was upset or not, but Bokuto could tell. He watched Akaashi pivot on his foot and followed him through the maze of dark structures.

Out of nowhere, a player came crashing through and slammed right into Akaashi, causing them to topple over. “Woah!” they yelled.

“Woah there, are you okay?” Bokuto quickly managed to get a hold of his arm mid-fall and helped him to his feet, but not before he heard Akaashi’s head thud against a wall in front of him. Akaashi nodded in response, “Thank you, Bokuto-san.” With an annoyed glare, the younger boy looked at the player who was on the floor, and offered a hand. Bokuto glanced at him and did the same.

“Thank you, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” she asked, taking their hands.

“We’re fine,” Akaashi assured.

“Just be careful,” Bokuto said.

“Right, sorry again!” she apologized as she ran off. The game ended soon after that and they were all given their scores. Unsurprisingly, Bokuto had the top score, whereas Akaashi had one of the lowest scores. With sweat coating their faces and heaving chests, the group of players dispersed and went their separate ways. Akaashi awaited further instruction from Bokuto, who was still grinning at his score; he was _incredibly_ proud and wanted to show off, to say the least.

“So, what’d you think? Wanna play again?” he excitedly asked.

“What?!” he choked out, “Oh- I mean, if that’s what you’d like,” he sighed. Akaashi put two fingers to the small lump that was growing on his head from when he knocked it off the wall, and held in any complaints swirling around in his head.

“Does it hurt?” he began, looking at the slightly reddened bump, “Wanna do something e-”

“I’m fine,” he huffed, ignoring the ache that had made its way back to his head, not particularly wanting to be in the building any longer. “What do we do next? You _are_ the one that asked me out, after all.”

“Oh! Uh, actually, I hadn’t exactly- planned this far ahead…” Bokuto sheepishly admitted.

Akaashi made a face, as if to question his legitimacy. He was growing tired of Bokuto’s immaturity and wondered if he should just ask for a ride home. “I think I should go home.”

“Awh, already? Is it cause of your head? Let me see it,” he offered, moving to the side that was affected. Bokuto reached a hand out to Akaashi’s head, and retracted it when he avoided the touch.

“I’m fine, please just drive me home.”

“Come on, it’s clearly _not_ fine, let me he-” before Bokuto could finish his sentence, Akaashi had turned towards the exit and was on his way out. He knew it was impolite, but he was beginning to get fed up. The older man ran behind him and grabbed hold of his right wrist, to which Akaashi furrowed his eyebrows at.

“What are you doing? Please don’t touch me,” he yanked his wrist away.

“Sorry- is there something else bothering you? Tell me what you need me to do,” he retaliated.

“If you don't mind, I would like to go home,” he stayed staring at Bokuto, searching his eyes for a reason to not leave.

“... Okay, I’ll take you home,” he softly complied.

The ride back was awfully quiet. Akaashi’s head was aching where it was bruised, and Bokuto kept fidgeting in his seat as he didn’t know exactly what to say or do. While at a red light, Akaashi leaned against the window and Bokuto glanced at him with furrowed brows, hesitating for a moment prior to extending a hand out. He watched as Akaashi stiffened and then relaxed, understanding what Bokuto was trying to do.

The boy, without looking at him, lightly closed his eyes at the gentle caress, Bokuto’s rough hand meeting Akaashi’s smooth face. He gave his head a light scratch and ran his thumb over the lump, then traced his hair line down to his neck and gave it a delicate squeeze. At that, Akaashi felt goosebumps form but made no detectable reaction. As much as he may not have wanted to, Bokuto withdrew his hand and opted to play music for the rest of the drive.

They soon neared the Mcdonalds where they had met up, and Akaashi gave directions for the way to his building. “Thanks for everything. See you,” Akaashi farewelled.

“Feel better! Bye!”

The younger boy watched him drive away and waved, and then entered the building. Sighing, he thought to himself. _‘Now, **that** was awkward. Talk about the worst date ever. Whatever, at least I can laugh it off later, plus I don’t have to see him anymore.’ _Even after he convinced himself that he was relieved the date was over, he could still sense the lingering hands that dwelled on his skin mere moments ago, and deep down, he craved it.

-

“So,” Kuroo began, his mouth full of steaming noodles, “how’d it go? Did you get any info?”

Bokuto shook his head shamefully, mentally preparing himself for the retaliation. “In fact, I think he might be annoyed with me.” He was beginning to doubt his efforts, and the guilt only grew heavier by the second. He heard Kuroo sigh and saw him lay down on his back on the couch, the bowl of noodles set on the floor below. The black haired boy closed his eyes and pinched his nose in thought.

“...Okay. You know what you have to do, just keep trying. It’s only been a few days, so it’s probably too soon for him to open up about his family. On other news-” he exclaimed, sitting up- “I got the stuff today,” he finished, pointing to a large wooden box sitting in a corner. It had yet to be opened, so the two curiously walked over and forcibly removed the top to reveal the weapons they had asked for. The men grinned simultaneously and immediately began assembling the parts together.

“Has Kenma uncovered anything else about Hirohito?”

“Unfortunately not, but he did find where Niko Akaashi lives. It’s called _Honeoye Falls Retirement Home_ , so I’m thinking-”

“Dude, no. How can a sick, fragile old lady help us?”

“Bo, we’ve been stuck on this case for how many years now? Our teammates have been missing since _August_. We don’t have time to-”

“I just think we should look at our options-”

“What other fucking options do we have?!” Kuroo yelled.

“I told you, I’m going to get as much information from Keiji-” he retaliated.

“What’s your problem?! You’ve never had an issue with interrogations in the past!”

“Nothing... What does the Chief think, did you at least ask her?” he asked quietly, trying to calm the air in the room. Kuroo clenched and unclenched his fists, and turned to the desk, attempting to occupy his hands with something else before he let it out on Bokuto.

“I’ll ask her later. You should get some rest, we’re going to those tunnels tomorrow.” With that, Bokuto headed to his room and laid back on the bed, feeling the heavy bags under his eyes pulling him into a deep slumber. He thought of those who were missing, and his chest ached with guilt. A recap of the final moments with his team before they were separated played in his head, and Bokuto’s thought’s were once again swarmed with ‘what if’s’. His throat tightened and untightened, and he felt bile rise to his esophagus. The tall man sprinted to the restroom inside his bedroom, and painfully emptied his stomach’s contents into the toilet.

“Shit,” his voice rasped out. _‘We really **are** running out of time.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the readers for your continued support. Suggestions, error corrections & comments are welcome and appreciated! Hope everyone is staying safe in the current situation!


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I'm alive and yes writer's block has rly gotten to me  
> Welcome back and so sorry for the long wait! Enjoy

4

**Sunday**

Kenma was not one to get involved with the physical aspect of solving cases. In fact, his position demanded that he stay seated, safe and sound in the comfort of his office at home. He found it suitable, and had previously never considered doing more than what was required of him. As much as he disliked being bossed around, he was getting paid, so he just told himself to put up with it.

That was before Kuroo and Bokuto were left alone in a state far from headquarters, far from _him_. Since the loss of their comrades, the two had been in complete shambles, and yet refused to let Kenma tag along. Although they had asked for reinforcements to aid in a rescue mission, the Chief declined, explaining that they ‘couldn’t afford to lose more people in a case they know nothing about,’ and instead choosing to send them a load of weapons as a final act of gratitude to their help over the years. The Chief was tremendously let down when she let them go, and even though she was opposed to it, she declared them free to continue on their own, and moved on. _‘Caught between a rock in a hard place,’_ he thought as he contemplated his duty to the organization versus his want to be of more help to Kuroo and Bokuto.

So, Kenma worked on both sides; during work hours he did what his bosses asked of him, and afterwards he did as much research as he practically could to help Kuroo and Bokuto, without the agency knowing. It wasn’t like he was purposefully trying to keep it hidden away from his coworkers; it just never came up. Recently, the 22 year old had seriously considered leaving his work behind and joining the pair, but he came to his senses and knew Kuroo would be furious with him. They needed each other, yet the trepidation of the risks clouded their hearts, keeping them miles apart. What was worse was knowing that the pair would not hesitate to put themselves in harm’s way to achieve their goal, and the most Kenma could do was try to convince them to stay away from danger, or ask them to request back-up again.

It was almost October, meaning they were nearing two months since Daichi Sawamura, Terushima Yuji, Kindaichi Yutaro, Tanaka Ryuunosuke and Saeko Ryuunosuke had gone missing. Another two months had gone by, and very little progress had been made. Things were looking hopeless, and Kenma found himself constantly wanting to give up. What was the point? They were probably dead; he wasn’t insensitive, just a realist.

However, he knew he couldn’t face Kuroo if he admitted that out loud, so he complied with whatever they asked of him, and before he knew it, he was packing his bags, ready to travel almost half a day to New York. It was a Sunday afternoon, so he would arrive by midnight or so. With a backpack slung over his left shoulder and duffel bag mounted on top of a suitcase, Kenma pulled the door close and locked it, feeling the dread of what was to come dragging him to the car.

Just as he was backing out of the driveway, he saw a familiar car come to a stop across from his house and idle, noticing a certain black-haired woman get out and make her way to him. Kenma parked and rolled down the window, watching the reflection in the side-view mirror closely.

“Kozume,” Kiyoko spoke, looking at him through the opened window.

“Hello, Ms. Kiyoko,” he responded, trying to keep a neutral face, so as to not give anything away. _‘Did she figure out I’m leaving? No, not possible, I didn’t tell **anyone.** ’_

“Going somewhere?” she asked coolly, eyeing the duffel bag in the passenger seat.

“Yeah, the library. Can I help you?”

“...You’re going to Tetsurou, aren’t you?” she inquired.

Kenma turned to face the steering wheel and exhaled, finding no point in hiding the truth. “How did you figure it out?”

“I could tell-”

“How?” he asked eagerly, facing her again.

“I just could,” she blatantly stated. “May I join you?”

The blonde looked back up at her with tired eyes, dark bags underneath them, signifying late nights staring at screens and tiny lettering. What was her goal? She was usually quite independent and was never particularly close with Kuroo or Bokuto. What would she get out of coming with him? Or was it just to rat him out later on? That must have been it.

“Why?”

“My talents and skills could be helpful to all of you.” It was true, Kiyoko was impeccably diligent and cool-headed, a quick thinker who was not only medically proficient, but physically capable as well. _‘A perfect soldier, if you will.’_

“What do you get out of it? I _know_ I’m risking my job by leaving, so if it’s credit you’re after, by all means, tell the Chief. I’m not trying to hide it,” he answered effortlessly.

“It’s nothing like that,”

“Then why-”

“You have your reasons, I have mine,” she firmly concluded. Kenma figured he wouldn’t be able to get anything more out of her, and frankly saw no urgency in the matter. He gestured to the passenger seat with his head and moved the bag to the back seat, unlocking the car door. 

Before she got in, Kiyoko went back to her car and parked it where Kenma’s was moments ago, grabbed a backpack and locked the car.

“We should be able to make it there by tonight, it’s about a 10 hour ride,” he noted. Glancing over at her bandaged fingers, Kenma could tell she had been putting herself through some rough physical training, and wondered what she was thinking. “You should get some rest.”

She didn’t respond, instead focusing on the view as they drove through the neighbourhood. Kenma wondered what Kuroo was doing, if he was safe, but his gut feeling told him something bad was coming. He just had to piece it together, and figure out what his next move would be.

-

**Three days prior**

“Screw off already, I told you I’m not going. Midterms are coming up soon and I have to prepare.” Akaashi waved Oikawa off.

“We’ve still got time before midterms! Don’t be such a killjoy, I _promise_ you’ll have fun,” he retaliated.

“Tooru, he said _no_. No means no, leave him alone,” Iwaizumi said.

“Ugh, come _on_! Pretty please?”

“I actually agree with Oikawa; all you ever do is work and study. Time to lighten up!” Suga added.

“Besides, do you _really_ wanna miss out on one of the few times all _fourteen_ of us are getting together at the _same time_? When’s the last time that happened?”

Akaashi looked at Oikawa sternly, not wanting to comply. “Pay me and I’ll go,” he stated, half-jokingly.

“Wha- Is that what our friendship is based on, _money_?” Oikawa wailed dramatically, pretending to cry into Iwaizumi. Sugawara laughed next to him as Iwaizumi pushed Oikawa off.

“I don’t understand why you want me to go so bad, but fine. Just let me do my work, please.” At that, Oikawa and Sugawara leapt for joy and enforced a group hug, acting as though they were children.

“Trust me, it’s gonna be a blast!” Oikawa yelled, remembering his confrontation with Bokuto from the other day. Iwaizumi groaned and Akaashi sighed, signifying their reluctance to go.

“So, Friday night? Yamamoto’s?” he questioned.

“Yup, we’ll pick you and Sugawara up at around 8.” Iwaizumi responded.

“Thanks, later!” Suga farewelled, pulling Akaashi by the arm to their next class. He waved goodbye as well, and silently hoped the party would somehow magically get cancelled. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy hang-out’s; he just had his priorities straight, and partying was _not_ one of them. It was true that he wasn’t much of a people-person, but the black haired boy _was_ genuinely fond of their friend group, for the most part. _‘I’ll just have to work even harder tonight so that I don’t have to worry tomorrow night.’_

“By the way,” Suga began, pulling Akaashi from his inner thoughts, “you haven’t told me about how your date went yesterday.”

“My _what_?! How did _you_ know?” Akaashi groaned, already knowing the response.

“A little bird told me~” Sugawara teased.

“Yeah, well I’m really _itching_ to go bird hunting right about now,” he muttered. Suga chuckled next to him as they walked. “It was terrible. The guy doesn’t know the difference between a date and a childish play-date. He’s not romantic, he’s brazen and he literally _ditched_ me. The only thing he’s got going for him is his good looks.”

“HAHAH!” he laughed out, “Wow, he’s really gotten to you, huh? You must really like him, then. He sounds interesting.”

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Oh, relax, I’m just making fun. Do you think you’ll see him again?” Suga inquired.

“No way,” he quickly responded.

-

Yamamoto’s house was impeccable. It had an indoor pool, 6 bedrooms, 3 floors, a ping pong table, a jacuzzi and just about anything you could want for a party. For a get-together of 14 people, it was more than suitable. Akaashi thought it was too much for a small family, but was still impressed every time he saw it; his tiny shared apartment unit couldn’t even _begin_ to compare.

It was 8:09 p.m. when Akaashi’s party of four walked through the heavy wooden doors without knocking, feeling comfortable enough to make their way through the maze of hallways, stairs and bedrooms to the kitchen. Yamamoto provided drinks and food, but Oikawa always managed to bring his own bottle of vodka or saké without fail.

On his person, Akaashi brought the bare necessities, including $20 in cash, identification, keys, chapstick and his cellphone. Oikawa had insisted on making him change his outfit, going on about ‘You can’t wear boring _khakis_ and a plaid shirt to a party!’ as if Akaashi had anyone to impress. So, the black haired boy wore a white turtleneck, tucked into dark black ripped jeans with a brown watch and glossy black _Doc Martens._ Oikawa was definitely irritating, but _damn_ did he have a good sense of fashion.

“The quad has arrived!” Oikawa shamelessly announced with his arms stretched high above his head, vodka in hand. There were cheers from the kitchen and neighbouring rooms as the others began racing to the group.

“HEY LOSERS!” Lev yelled, as Iwaizumi and Sugawara split off to talk to others.

“Lev? Wait, when did you get back from…?”

“Montreal! A few days ago,” he excitedly replied.

“Huh,” Akaashi shrugged, “well, welcome back.”

“When are Hinata and Kageyama arriving?” Yamaguchi questioned.

“Kageyama gets off work in an hour, Hinata said he would wait for him, so probably around 9,” Akaashi responded.

“Are they the only ones left?” Inuoka asked from the game room, console in hand as he stared at the screen in front of him.

“Them and the one other guy-”

“Suga-chan! Shut _up_!” Oikawa shushed, with an awkward smile and a finger pressed against his lips.

“Uhm- I mean- Yeah, just those two!” he quickly spoke. _‘One other guy…?’_ Akaashi pondered as to what they were talking about.

Akaashi spied Tsukishima seated quietly on a bar stool and took a seat next to him, choosing to start conversation with the quiet male. Neither of them minded each other’s presence, and they often spent the most time with one another at these large parties, with Yamaguchi tagging along.

“YO! You brought vodka?! Sweet!” Nishinoya exclaimed with a toothy smile.

“Yes, and no you may _not_ chug half the bottle. You should think of your liver, Nishi, also think of _my_ hard-earned money-” Oikawa stated.

“Oh, please. You practically _begged_ me to buy it,” Iwaizumi interrupted.

“Yeah, but you love me Iwa-chan~” Oikawa said, with a brief kiss on the cheek. After placing the bottle down, Oikawa led Iwaizumi to the couch in the game room where multiple boys were competing in a racing game on t.v., or relaxing on bean bags, making side-comments as they watched.

“What’s this? I was half expecting _Forza Horizon_ , Inuoka wouldn’t shut up about his obsession with it” Iwaizumi remarked as he sat on the couch with his legs outstretched, allowing room for Oikawa to lay in between.

“Obsession?!” Inuoka spat out.

“Yeah, we switched to _Mario Kart_ ,” Yaku replied from his spot on the carpet.

“I’m totally kicking their asses,” Ennoshita confidently laughed out. Sure enough, he was in first place on the third lap.

“Ennoshita, how are you so good at video games but also a straight A student? Where’s the school-play-work-life balance? Literally unfair,” Oikawa inquired without peeling his eyes away from his phone screen. He shifted slightly on Iwaizumi’s chest and let himself relax against his body.

“Hah! Secrets I will never reveal.”

-

3 hours had passed and the group was still rowdy as before. The pizza had arrived and 6 of 7 boxes had been emptied within the hour. Some of the boys were in the pool, some in the game room, a few in the kitchen and the rest were somewhere in the giant house doing who knew what. Akaashi was on the verge of falling asleep as he mindlessly scrolled through social media with his right arm pillowing his head on the marble counter. He was half-listening to a conversation between Nishinoya and Hinata, but found it somewhat troubling to follow, due to the constant snacks being shoved into their mouths.

“Guys! Come to the game room, let’s play something!” Yamamoto shouted.

“No offense, Yamamoto, but I’m not really in the mood for video games,” Sugawara softly confessed.

“No, not video games, let’s play something stupid, one of those stereotypical sleepover games.”

“‘Sleepover’? What are we, 13?” Nishinoya added.

“Yeah, you _definitely_ are,” Tsukishima joked. Laughter erupted from multiple boys, and Nishinoya attempted to take Tsukishima’s glasses off of him. Yamamoto turned off the console and pushed the group that was in the kitchen to the game room, forcing Oikawa to awaken grumpily from his nap to make space on the couch. Akaashi sighed as he stood from his spot on the stool, making his way to a green bean bag, plopping down next to Yaku and Kageyama.

“What’s he doing?” Kageyama questioned, eyes following Yamamoto to the stairs leading to the first floor.

“He’s probably gonna get the guys from the pool,” Yaku responded.

“Yeah, but for what? He said a game?” Akaashi continued.

“Dunno,” Yaku admitted, leaning further into his bean bag with a _Nintendo Switch_ in his hands.

Once he finished hunting the house for the remaining participants and managed to have them seated quietly in a circle, Yamamoto stood and began to speak.

“So, three hours into the night, hope we’re all having a good time?” Cheers and noises of agreements retaliated to signify their moods. “Tight, so, now that we’re all together, any game suggestions?”

“... Bro, we thought you had a game in mind,” Iwaizumi snorted.

“Uh, all I can think of is _Truth or Dare,_ but if you guys have any other options, I’m all ears,” he confessed.

“Oh! Oh! I know, how about-” Hinata began.

“Stupid, we’re _not_ playing _Bop It!_ ” Kageyama intervened.

“What about _Hide’n’Seek_?” Lev offered.

“You can count me out,” Tsukishima promptly stated.

“I second that. We’re not 5, you know. Plus, it would take _way_ too long with the number of people and hiding places there are,” Akaashi agreed.

“Let’s just go with what Yama-chan said,” Oikawa finalized as he drank the remaining wine from his glass. There were multiple nods of agreement, confirming the choice.

“But, we’re doing _Truth or Dare_ with vodka, obviously. So, if you chicken out of your truth of dare, you have to take a shot,” he explained, fetching shot glasses and the bottle.

“Alright,” he said, sitting cross legged on the floor, “I guess I’ll go first… Suga!”

“Oh, me?”

“Truth or dare?”

“Um, truth...?”

“You have the hots for that girl in psych?”

“Oh my god! _Yamamoto_!” Sugawara exclaimed, hurling a pillow at him.

“HAH! What? You two have been spending a _noticeable_ amount of time together, dude. So? Do you?”

“Wait, what?! How come I didn’t know about this?” Oikawa butt in. Others began making remarks as well, overwhelming Sugawara with questions.

“Which girl? The redhead?” Kageyama pondered.

“Guys, guys! Let him answer,” Ennoshita defended. Silence soon filled the room as they patiently waited for his answer.

“Uhm, I don’t know. She’s sweet, and really cute…”

“But?” Iwaizumi prompted.

“Ugh! I hate all this attention… I like her, but not enough, y’know? Plus…”

“... What?” Akaashi softly stated.

“I think I’m bi, I don’t know,” he lightly chuckled with a smile.

“No shit! Welcome to the club, muchacho!” Nishinoya blurted out as he clapped.

“Don’t worry, even if you’re unsure, we support you either way,” Akaashi assured. Others nodded and voiced their agreements.

“Aww, aren’t you guys just the _sweetest_ ,” Oikawa teased.

“Anyway, it’s my turn. Oikawa, truth or dare?”

“Hmm, dare.”

“Okay, I dare you to take a shot-”

“Too easy, I can do that no problem,” he stated confidently.

“I’m not done. Take a shot, from Iwaizumi’s _stomach_ ,” he deviously added.

“Ohh, okay.”

“What?! No way. I don’t want his mouth germs on my stomach,” Iwaizumi said firmly.

“As if they haven’t been there already.”

“Oooohh!” multiple people devilishly cheered.

“… Fine, then do it off of Yamaguchi’s stomach,” Sugawara offered as he pointed to the now-flustered boy.

“Wh-wh-” Yamaguchi stuttered.

“No! Uh- I mean, don’t bother the poor kid. Let’s just get this over with,” Iwaizumi muttered.

“Fine by me, but was that _jealousy_ I sensed, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa concluded with a grin.

“What’s that?! I’ll smack that grin off of your face, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi fired back.

“Come on, is that even a dare? They’re already together,” Yaku reflected.

“Whatever, just do it already!” Hinata urged. Suga patted the floor in the center of the circle for Iwaizumi to lay. He pulled his shirt up to reveal well-toned muscles, resulting in a few whistles and playful cat-calls from the group. Oikawa held a shot of liquor over his stomach and looked into his boyfriend’s eyes.

“You ready, babe?” Oikawa mocked with a smirk. He could see a faint blush covering Iwaizumi’s cheeks and nose, and laughed internally. _‘Cute.’_ With a swift turn of the wrist, he poured the contents of the glass onto his stomach, causing some of it to drip over the sides. Oikawa acted quickly, licking a drop from the waist before making his way up to a larger pool covering his belly-button. Iwaizumi tensed under the attention and ruckus coming from their audience and opted to cover his face with his palms, his toes curled and his hair stood on end. He also noticed a few flashes of cameras and people recording. Oikawa continued to lick every drop he saw, from one side to the other, even to the edge of his underwear waistband. He added in some exaggeration for show, and stood on his knees with raised arms and a large smile once he finished.

“Ta da!” he laughed. Looking down at Iwaizumi, he saw the glossy reflection of light illuminating his saliva marks, and wiped it off with his hand as his boyfriend sat up.

“Well, that was fun,” Oikawa lightly ridiculed in a low tone. He gained nothing more than a mere grunt in response, and they made their way back to their spots, empty shot glass in hand.

“Dude, Iwaizumi, you were totally flustered!” Lev pointed out.

“I swear to God I, will kill each and every one of you,” he reciprocated, which caused even more laughter to erupt.

“Oikawa seemed to enjoy that way too much,” Nishinoya added in.

“Well, who _wouldn’t_ wanna take a shot from a hot guy bod~” Iwaizumi playfully slapped Oikawa’s head at that, resulting in a few snorts.

“Alright, alright. Who’s gonna be the next victim…” he thought aloud with a hand on his chin.

“Come on, pick someone already,” Kageyama eagerly demanded.

“Shut up, Tobio. Akaashi! Truth or dare?”

“Who said I’m even playing?”

“You, when you sat down. So, which will it be?”

“Ugh, fine,” he complied with a sigh. “Truth.”

“Ohhh, this’ll be good,” Ennoshita commented.

“Who’s that Bokuto guy?” Oikawa slyly asked.

“Uh-” Akaashi sat with shock on his face, completely taken aback by the question. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Who’s Bokuto?” Hinata pondered. Curiosity filled the room and Akaashi felt he was left with no choice but to give them some sort of acknowledgement.

“Can we just drop it…?”

“Awh, come on, Kei-Kei! Tell us a little bit!” he begged.

“He’s no one. Just a friend.”

“Secret admirer?” Yamamoto inquired.

“That’s not-” Suga began.

“I answered the question. My turn, right? Yaku, truth or dare?”

“Hey! That’s not fair-”

“Tooru, drop it, he clearly doesn’t wanna talk about it,” Iwaizumi cut him off. The brown haired boy slouched back into the couch and pouted, clearly unhappy with the minimal information.

“Is Bokuto your boyfriend?” Yamaguchi asked.

“You all suck. Yaku, _truth_ or _dare_?” he pressed on.

“Uhh, dare.”

“Aw, come on, share, Akaashi! It’s just us,” Hinata begged.

“Yeah, tell us!”

“Please?”

“Guys-”

“What’s he look like?”

“We’re your friends!”

“Share with us!”

“Okay guys, settle down. Let’s not peer pressure,” Iwaizumi declared.

 ** _Ding dong!_** Everyone froze and turned to one another in confusion.

“Are we expecting anyone else?” Lev prompted.

“I’ll go check who it is,” Yamamoto said as he stood.

With that, the game continued and Yamamoto made his way down to the first floor. His phone pinged, and he fished it out of his pocket to check the notification.

**From: Koushi 11:27 p.m.**

**do you think it’s…**

**From: Tooru 11:27 p.m.**

**Omg finally!!**

**To: Koushi 11:27 p.m.**

**I think so o.o**

**To: Tooru 11:28 p.m.**

**Ikr**

When he got to the front door, he unlocked it to reveal a… _very_ large man. “Well, you fit the description I was given. Bokuto, right?” he said as he put out his hand to shake it.

“Yeah, and you are…?” Bokuto replied, taking his hand.

“Yamamoto. Come in, come in,” he invited, moving to the side to let him through.

“Thanks! Oh, this is for you,” Bokuto handed Yamamoto an elegant round bottle filled with an auburn liquid.

“What’s this?”

“Good ol’ _Cognac_ ,” he grinned. “So, this your place? It’s _massive._ ”

“Yeah, thanks man. My family is at my grandma’s house currently, so I’ve got the place for the weekend. Figured a place like this, large group of friends, jackpot, you know?”

“Totally!”

“So, this is the first floor, 2 bedrooms that way, few bathrooms, pool table and ping pong table in there with a t.v. and some other games, indoor pool that way with a door that leads to the jacuzzi outside,” Yamamoto pointed, walking over to the pool. Bokuto was in awe at the impressive house, gasping when he saw the immense flat screen t.v..

“Stairs are over here. Everyone’s on the second floor in the game room, but we usually split up in different areas to do whatever, so feel free to explore or go wherever you want. There’s also a third floor and a whole bunch of other rooms you can check out. So, yeah, mi casa es su casa,” Yamamoto explained.

“Dude, this place is _awesome_. Thanks for letting me come over, and sorry I’m late!”

“No worries!” he smiled. The two bumped fists as they continued up the stairs. They were approaching the game room and could hear chatter, cheering and laughter from the group. Turning the corner to reveal themselves, Bokuto scanned the room as the voices slowly quieted.

“Guys, Bokuto. Bokuto, guys,” Yamamoto introduced. A few heads turned to Akaashi and back to a beaming Bokuto as he waved.

“Hi! Nice to meet you all!”

Akaashi’s face went red; he could feel the invisible spotlight burning on him, as they sat with unanswered questions. Akaashi was completely shocked and his mouth slightly trembled, and without a second thought, he marched over to the man who was now making his acquaintance with a few group members. Confusion filled his mind; how was this happening? Was he _stalking_ him? Who was this weirdo, and what did he want?

“We need to talk,” Akaashi firmly muttered through gritted teeth, pulling Bokuto by the wrist to a bedroom down the hall. He didn’t know what to say yet, the words hadn’t formed but he knew he had to say something. How was he to deal with this situation? The panic rose and the pit in his stomach only deepened with each step forward.

“Woah, alright.”

“Where do I even begin,” the younger boy asked himself, his back faced towards a confused Bokuto. With his brows furrowed and his shoulders hunched, Akaashi exhaled and rotated back to the older boy. “What are you _doing_ here?”

“Jeez, it’s nice to see you too,” he chuckled.

“Cut the crap. Are you _stalking_ me?” he asked sharply.

“What kind of nonsense-”

“Are you?!”

“Relax, no, I’m not. Even if I was, why would Yamamoto have let me in with no questions asked?”

“How do you even _know_ Yamamoto?”

“I just met him at the door. It was Oikawa who-”

“ _Oikawa?!_ ” Akaashi harshly hissed out. “I swear to gods, he’s going to be the _end_ of me.”

“... Is it really that big of a deal that I’m here?” Bokuto asked softly. Akaashi slouched down on the bed with his elbows resting on his knees and hands holding his head.

“I just… it feels like- I just- can’t go through that again… ”

“What is it? You can tell me,” Bokuto comforted, seated next to him with his hands in his lap. Akaashi straightened his back and cleared his throat.

“Nothing. If people ask how we know each other, just say we’re work friends.”

“What? Why?”

“Listen, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you brought me on the _worst_ date in history. So, you officially owe me.”

“The worst date?... I can just leave, you know,” Bokuto pouted.

“No, no, I’m just… really tense. It’s hard to explain,” he confessed. “Let’s just go, you’re already here, might as well introduce you to everyone.”

“Alright,” the taller boy sighed, feeling slightly hurt.

-

Bokuto soon cheered up. So long as he didn’t focus on Akaashi and whatever reasons he had for getting upset, his mood stayed positive. He had spent the next couple of hours competing on _Just Dance_ , _Beer-Pong_ and various other games. He threw Hinata and Nishinoya in the pool countless times and helped Inuoka prank Lev, which left them on the floor, laughing so hard they struggled to breathe. He also showed off his pool skills he learned from Kuroo and impressed the newbies he played with and against, and then played his heart out in ping-pong. 1:16 a.m. struck and the 23 year old was sweating buckets when he finally decided to take a break, heading to the kitchen for a drink. He cooled his arms down on the icy marble counter, noticing Sugawara seated on the counter with his back resting against a cabinet, plastic cup in one hand and his phone in the other. The silver-haired man was wearing a pair of revealing black shorts and a red long sleeved shirt that was patterned with checkered black boxes and tucked in. Bokuto couldn’t resist but to admire his long lean legs, how smooth they looked and how they glowed under the bright yellow kitchen lights. He looked like a model, and Bokuto felt the urge to compliment him.

“You-”

“Nope. You’re not my type,” he cut him off, knowing what Bokuto was about to say.

“Oh, alright,” Bokuto stumbled over his words, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Having a good time?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

“Glad to hear it. You fit right in. By the way, what school did you say you go to?”

“I didn’t, I’m a cop, so I’m not in school.”

“Oh? I thought you were a work friend, a guy your age, I would assume you’re still in school,” the grey-haired boy pressed on.

“Oh- well, I’m Akaashi’s work friend’s, uh- friend. Connections, ya know?”

“Mhm. So… you like him, or what?” he questioned bluntly, placing his phone on the counter and focusing on the man before him.

“Well… I don’t know, maybe. But he’s kind of, er- closed off. Earlier he said…”

“What?”

“He ‘can’t go through _that_ again,’” he replied with a hushed voice.

“Did he say what he meant?”

“Nope, and I’ve got no clue, bupkis.”

“Ah… He’s probably talking about Rajat,” Sugawara thought pitifully.

“Rajat?”

“His ex. Put Akaashi through _hell._ ”

“... What happened?”

“I can’t go into details, not my business to share. But, honestly, I used to think they would end up together, like, forever. I had never seen Akaashi so happy, but things change,” Sugawara sighed, and hopped off of the counter, “and so do people. All you gotta know is he’s exceptionally hesitant to trust anyone now, so try not to take it personally if he’s stubborn. Anyway, I’m gonna go drink and swim my frustrations out, or whatever. Later,” he concluded with a wave.

“Oh- uh, alright,” Bokuto waved. The larger man was dumbfounded by what he just learned, and grew unsure of what to do next. He observed the people around him and spotted the door leading to the second floor porch. Sliding it open, he felt the rush of cool air touch his scabrous skin, before shutting it behind him, and leaned his thick arms against the porch rail. His eyes attempted to fixate on something in the forest in front of him, but the darkened woodland wouldn’t permit it. All he could observe was a reflection of the unknown space beyond human limits, and for a moment, Bokuto's once calmed spirit evolved into a fear of the enigmatic realities surrounding him.

“Are you okay?” Bokuto jumped, clearly startled at the sound of a voice in the dark. Gazing past his left shoulder, he ascertained a figure seated by the wall behind him.

“What?” Bokuto pondered aloud, squinting his eyes.

“You look troubled. Are you okay?”

“Wha- Akaashi? What are you doing sitting out here alone in the dark?” he worriedly queried, recognizing the familiar voice. Sitting down next to him, Bokuto could see his features better, noticing how clear his skin appeared, even under the poor sky lighting.

“My question first. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, what do you mean I looked ‘troubled’?”

“You just looked… I don’t know, melancholic.”

“Well, aren’t you observant? Haha, I’m fine, just had some stuff on my mind.”

“... Care to share?” Akaashi curiously encouraged.

“Nah. Nothing to worry `bout,” Bokuto reassured.

“… Can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“Are you really a cop?”

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno… You’re just kind of, suspicious.”

“Aw, come on. Not this again, I’m an open book!”

“Uh-huh. What was all that about, in the car before you dropped me off?” Akaashi hesitantly mumbled out.

“Huh?”

“You’re kind of clueless, aren’t you? I mean, when you- like, I don’t- know how to explain it,” Akaashi’s nerves grew, his cheeks felt warm and he fiddled with his fingers in anticipation. “Nevermind,” he turned away to face the forest, feeling awkward.

“...” Bokuto gently placed his hand on top of Akaashi’s nervous ones, grabbing his attention. Staring into his narrow eyes, Bokuto could read into his heart, and he saw a wall, put up to block off the horror’s and pains he had endured. He pushed everything down, and refused to deal with whatever it was. Akaashi wanted to come off as a plain hard-working student, and most of all he didn’t want to seem weak. What was it that he refused to show? What was the source of his pain? Bokuto was determined to find out. Closing his eyes, he leaned in and he could feel the warmth radiating from Akaashi’s mouth.

Akaashi could sense his heart pacing and his chin trembled with each passing second. Goosebumps formed on his arms and neck before he let his eyelids fall, closing off the view of Bokuto’s relaxed and confident face.

“What are you…” Akaashi whispered out. They shared hot breaths in between them, and just as they were about to seal their kiss, Akaashi woke to his senses and backed out. “I can’t, I’m sorry,” he apologized, rising from his seat to lean against the wooden railing as he caught his breath. His heart was still beating loudly in his ears, and frustration made itself present on his soft facial features.

“What’s wrong?” Bokuto pondered aloud, joining him on the balcony handrail.

“Do you ever… feel like you care too much about someone who you _know_ isn’t worth it?”

“... Rajat?”

“What- How do you know about him?” he questioned alarmingly.

“Uhh- I don’t know much, if that makes you feel better. Just that he’s your ex?”

“Yeah. He was the first person I ever loved, and probably the last,” he replied pessimistically.

“What happened?”

“No, I’m definitely _not_ opening up to some _imbecile_ I met just last week.”

“Oh come _on_. Enough of this ‘I just met you’ crap. Who says there has to be some sort of minimum or maximum amount of time to pass before trusting someone?”

“ _Me_ ,” he concluded sternly. “Let’s take the focus off of me. What about _you_?”

“Ah. What _about_ me?”

“I don’t know. What made you think _laser tag_ was a good idea for a first date?”

“Aw, you’re still sour? You had a good time, you know you did.” The truth was that Bokuto wanted to see if Akaashi had any skill in combat, which would aid in Bokuto’s and Kuroo’s investigation of confirming whether or not Akaashi was involved with Hirohito’s ‘business.’ Had he shown proficiency in athleticism, Bokuto would have grown even more suspicious.

“Hmph. My head still hurts, you know.”

“Battle scars, eh?” Bokuto teased, laughing when Akaashi shoved him lightly.

“When are you going back to Maine?”

“Why? Wanna come with?”

“Oh, please. You’re so weird.”

“By the way, what’s up with orange head?”

“What?”

“Short kid, I forgot his name,” Bokuto lied. He knew his name, knew who he was and was utterly surprised when he saw him at the party; he didn’t expect Akaashi to be friends with one of the victims.

“Hinata? What about him?”

“Get the feeling something’s bothering him.”

“How do you mean?” Akaashi inquired.

“I don’t know, nervous, for one.”

“Yeah, he’s been through a lot recently. He’s a tough cookie, though. He’ll be okay.”

“What happened to him?” Bokuto pressed, trying to get any information he could out of him without seeming suspicious.

“Why are you so curious?” he joked, pushing Bokuto’s head lightly. Akaashi’s phone began vibrating, startling him.

“What’s up?”

“My manager. I’ll just take this real quick,” he said, walking over to a more solitude spot. Bokuto’s mind wandered and he grinned as he waited, thinking of how their relationship was growing. He checked the time, and realized he should be getting back soon. Bokuto glanced to his left to see Akaashi making his way back.

“All good?”

“Yeah, just got called into work. Small emergency. I need to get going, but I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay,” he waved.

“Wait, uh, I can give you a ride.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I don’t mind taking the bus.”

“I insist.”

“... Alright, thank you,” Akaashi smiled, feeling grateful.

-

While in the car, Akaashi felt at peace as he stuck his arm out the window, light droplets of rain dabbing his waxed skin.

“Do you not drive?” Bokuto asked, breaking the silence.

“I can drive, just can’t afford a car.”

“Really?”

“Hey, unlike you, I _don’t_ have a career. Cops get a good salary, I’m a part-timer who’s paid minimum wage.”

“True, but I bet you make a hell of a lot of tips,” he responded.

“Yeah and it goes towards basic necessities like school, food, my mom-”

“Your mom?” Bokuto enquired.

“She lives in a retirement home. Anyway, I don’t have the luxury of keeping a car,” he stated truthfully.

“Well, if you ever need a ride, for anything, just let me know,” Bokuto offered.

“That’s sweet, but I couldn’t.”

“Offer still stands.” They pulled up to the front entrance where Akaashi hopped out and shut the door behind him.

“Thank you,” he spoke through the opened window.

“Sure thing! Let me know when your shift is over, I’ll pick you up,” Bokuto requested.

“No, it’ll be too late for that. Go home and sleep, you’ve done enough for me.”

“Just shoot me a text, I can guarantee I’ll still be awake by then.”

“... Okay, thank you, again,” Akaashi shyly accepted. They waved goodbye and Akaashi’s heart smiled ecstatically.

Akaashi pushed open the heavy doors to see the building positively filled with customers. He spotted Savannah working very quickly, making conversation as she moved. Waiting at the end of the bar by the short door, Savannah glanced over and made eye contact, signaling that she would be over as soon as she could.

“Hey, sorry, I know you’re busy, José called. Where is he?”

“He left like 30 minutes ago to the back room, I haven’t been able to go and check on him because it’s so busy.”

“Thanks, I’ll give you a hand once I see what’s up with him.”

“Okay.” With that, Akaashi parted and walked into the crowded room, maneuvering around the boxes in search of his boss.

“José?” he called out. When his pursuit led to no avail, he opened the door which connected to the dumpsters behind the building. With this action, Akaashi had damned himself; he froze when he saw a group of people standing around in the darkened corridor, with none other than his boss sitting on a chair, petrified and hurt.

“I’m so sorry,” he spoke.

“José? What’s going on?”

“Are you Akaashi Keiji?” a woman intervened. He felt a bad feeling grow in his gut and his throat clogged up, unable to speak, to which the woman grabbed hold of his wrist and shoved him down the steps and onto the ground. When he attempted to stand, a rough hand squished the left side of his face to the coarse terrain and he watched as a man held a blade to José’s throat.

“I asked you a question. Answer it or your friend here dies.” José grunted as the blade dug deeper, causing some blood to escape. “Are you Akaashi Keiji?”

“Yes, I am,” he choked out as the grip on his throat tightened slightly.

“Search him,” she demanded. The woman tied a cloth around his mouth so that he could not speak or yell, and another man pulled out his belongings from his pocket. He crushed his cellphone, kept the cash and threw away everything but his identification card.

“Yeah, it’s him,” he confirmed, showing the woman the ID.

“What are you going to do with us? Just let us go, please, we won’t press charges,” José pleaded. The man behind him removed the knife from his neck and knotted a fabric around his mouth, before stabbing him brutally in his upper right arm. José let out a muffled cry, and Akaashi fidgeted, fighting the attackers as much as he could, but they were stronger than him. He could count at least five of them in total and kept hold of his eye contact with his manager, looking for any sort of reassurance, but found none.

“Come on, we’re going,” she exigent. The large brown van that had been parked ahead of them had its back doors open, and Akaashi was soon being urged towards it. Before he could run, his arm was pulled down so the condescending woman could whisper into his ear. “If you even _think_ of running away, I’ll break your legs so bad you’ll never walk again. Is that understood?” she threatened, clenching her hand even harder around his thin arm.

“Mhm,” he replied with a nodd.

“Vay, what should we do with him?” a man pointed to José, another man holding his shoulders tightly.

“Bring him too, we could use more people.”

After being jostled into the truck, the kidnappers bonded their hands with cuffs and they were headed off to who knew where. Akaashi and José huddled fearfully in a corner of the truck with three of the five attackers. Akaashi closed his eyes and tried to escape the current situation to ease his mind, but was brought back when he noticed a warm liquid dripping down his arm. Opening his eyes to see what it was, he observed José’s pained face as his injury continued to bleed. Akaashi muffled out a sound to get the attackers attention, but they ignored him, maintaining their conversation. He continued to voice what he could, when the man next to him fidgeted against his allegations, attempting to stop Akaashi. He retorted by gesturing at his wound, and then leaned forward toward the kidnappers. Just as he was about to grunt out even louder, one of the men stood and crouched in front of him, looking him up and down before pinning him to the van wall behind him.

“Shut. Up.”

“Charlie,” the woman, Vay, coolly stated as she sharpened her knife with a rock. “What did we say about controlling yourself?”

“But he’s being _annoying_.”

“He’s been injured superfluously for now, and he looks like he’s got baby skin, so he could break at any moment. He’s useless to us dead.”

“Well, what does he want? He keeps struggling,” Charlie asked, pulling the now wet rag out of Akaashi’s mouth. He inhaled heavily, his chest heaving noticeably. “What? Talk.”

“He’s bleeding,” Akaashi said, glancing at José.

“So?” Charlie raised an eyebrow at him.

“So, stop the bleeding, or at least let-” Akaashi’s sentence was cut off with a ruthless beating to the stomach, punch after punch he cried out.

“ _You_ don’t tell _us_ what to do.”

“CHARLIE!” Vay yelled, “Mack, stop him!” she ordered. The other large man stood and ceased the attack, wrestling Charlie’s wild movements. Akaashi lay silently, drool coming out of his mouth as he made a weak effort to catch his breath. His torso ached and he could tell at least one of his ribs was broken or fractured, feeling a sharp pain in his chest everytime he inhaled. Vay knelt down by Akaashi and pulled the cloth back up to his mouth, and slipped her fingers around his chest to try to pull him into a seated position. However, the moment she applied pressure against his ribs, he yelped out and groaned in pain. Vay let go of him, allowing his cries to die down.

“Where, where does it hurt?” she questioned, pulling down the rag so he could speak.

“My- muh… che-chest,” he huffed out. Vay lifted his shirt to reveal a deep red bruise forming. She pushed her thumb against it, “Does it hurt?”

“STOP! Please,” he begged.

“Charlie,” she turned back to him, “you stupid fuckwad, I _told_ you. You see this?” motioning to his chest. “If he dies, that’s on you. And guess what? That means our plan failed, you _idiot_.” Vay pulled his shirt back down and covered his mouth again.

“Alright, kid. This is gonna hurt, but I’m gonna need you to bear with me. On three,” she began, placing her strong hands snug under his armpits, “one… two… three!” the woman hauled him into a new position, leaned against the corner. Akaashi whimpered lightly in an attempt to swallow his cries. “J.T., pass the first aid kit,” she called out to a woman in the passenger seat. Opening the small box, Vay pulled out an ice patch and taped it to the injury, and applied a bandage to José’s cut. The two victim’s eyed her movements carefully and suspiciously. When she finished, she handed the kit back to the front and sat down in her previous spot, sharpening her knife once more.

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice. I just _helped_ you.” she grinned slyly, “After all, we can’t have our valuable bargaining chip dying on us, now can we?” The three chuckled predatorily, making Akaashi and José feel even weaker and more vulnerable. They thought of what might come, but one thing they knew for sure was that it wasn’t going to be good.

-

Bokuto wondered how much longer Akaashi’s shift lasted, and checked what time the bar closed at. He sat up suddenly when he saw it closed nearly two hours ago, and felt the urge to text him.

**To: Keiji <3 4:43 a.m.**

**hey, u still at work??**

When he received no response a mere minute later, he called him, but stared at his phone with confusion when it didn’t ring, instead going to his voicemail immediately. _‘Maybe his phone died?’_

**To: Keiji <3 4:44 a.m.**

**txt me when u wake up so ik u got home safe :-) gn!!**

“Hey, so did you find anything out at the party?” Kuroo asked, standing at the foot of the bedroom.

“Nah, nothing useful. I think he’s clean. He’s got no combat skills, nothing. Just a normal citizen.”

“Obviously he’s _not_ a normal citizen, considering Hirohito.”

“He’s clean, I’m sure of it,” Bokuto replied sternly.

“Fine. So that leaves us back at square one. The sewers were empty, the kid has no clue of his shady uncle, and we’re still not one step closer than we were before.”

“So… what’s next?”

“Questioning time. We can go tomorrow to the retirement home, and then we can talk to, uh, what was his name? Shouyou?”

“Wait, I just remembered something,” Bokuto froze.

“What?”

“Hinata Shouyou? He was at the party. Which means I can’t ask him.”

“He was at the party and you didn’t _say_ anything to him?!”

“I tried to get information out of Akaashi about him. It would have been too suspicious to ask the kid directly, bro,” he protested.

“Agh. I’ll talk to Hinata, you go to the residential home,” Kuroo concluded firmly.

“Alright, what covers are we going with this time, FBI?”

“Yeah. By the way, where even were you all day?"

"Oh, y'know, out..."

"Hm. You should get some rest,” Kuroo wrapped up their conversation, walking away when Bokuto nodded in response.

“Oh, and Kuroo?”

“What’s up?” he popped his head around the door frame.

“We’re going to find them. We’re _going_ to get them back. Alive,” Bokuto promised assertively. Kuroo’s heart was filled with doubt, yet he tried with all his might to believe in Bokuto’s certainty.

Their determination had kept them going thus far, and they were not prepared to give up the pursuit, no matter what. They were ready to lay down their lives for their missing comrades, and swore to one another that nothing, _no one,_ would hold them back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooo it's getting good. What do you think is going on with this 'bargaining chip' thing with Akaashi? What does Vay want?  
> Also sorry there's so much dialogue this chapter!!  
> Anyway, thank you all for your patience! See you next chapter


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, welcome back  
> Please enjoy!

5

Vay had lost her humanity long ago. She refused to let something like _guilt_ thwart her goals, and never hesitated to take another’s life. She was always one step ahead, had a plan for any situation, and knew everything about anyone she encountered, in case she needed black mail material. She was a self righteous agent whose only concern was herself. The remarkably intelligent woman had her robust ways of getting what she wanted, and Akaashi had his bad luck to thank for their intertwining fates.

At least one hour had passed and the two victims were growing more and more uneasy by the minute. Where were they taking them? What did they want with Akaashi? Said boy tried to pinpoint any occasions in his life which may have caused him to make any enemies, but nothing popped up. _‘They said I’m useful to them? For a bargain? Oh gods, are they going to **sell** me? But then… what about José, they didn’t seem to ‘care’ for him as much… This is so screwed up, I’m just a civilian!’_

At this point, the rags had their mouths feeling dry and their wrists were sore from the cuffs, they had been given cloth to cover their eyesight and the only sense of comfort Akaashi could feel was José’s warm arm next to him; the man was still, but his bloody wound left his arm temperate and sticky. The black haired boy’s bruised rib was hot and he could perceive the swelling, ratchety inhales and exhales signified his trouble to breathe. He wanted to speak, to demand answers, but simultaneously wanted to stay as quiet and still as he could, pray that they wouldn’t see him.

Akaashi thought of his beloved mother, the woman who was always there as a source of solace and love, giving him support all throughout his life. In his eyes, she was a sturdy rock, had conquered through his father’s passing, and he only wished he could give her everything she ever wanted.

“How much longer is it?” one of the men, Charlie, by the sound of it, asked.

“Should be arriving in an hour or so,” J.T. responded.

“Ughhhh, this is taking _so_ long,” Charlie complained. “I gotta piss.”

“Hold it,” Mack interrupted.

“What’s that?! You wanna try that again?!” Charlie erupted, losing control yet again.

“For fuck’s sake, Charlie, sit your stupid ass down. It’s not our fault you have a miniscule bladder,” Mack demanded.

“Mack! You asshole, I’m sick of being stuck back here, and-”

“Charlie,” a new voice cut in. As soon as the person, presumably the driver, spoke, Charlie quieted down and stayed silent for the duration of the ride.

“J.T.,” Vay began a few minutes later, “wanna switch with me for a bit?” The woman did not voice her answer, but Akaashi could hear shuffling of feet as Vay moved to the front seat and began a conversation with the driver, and J.T. sat soundlessly.

When he felt it to be safe, Akaashi shifted slightly and cursed internally when his injured rib fought against the movement. Yet, he continued to move his weight to the right side of his body, and froze when he felt José’s body lean heavily against his. It fell slowly onto his lap, and he sensed no further motions. Akaashi’s heart began to thump quicker and harder as he worried about his manager. He shook his leg to grab his attention, and mumbled out his name, but José was motionless. Akaashi prayed that he was asleep, and nothing more.

J.T. took notice of Akaashi’s squirming, but did nothing to help ease his concerns. Instead, she gestured to Mack silently, to which he glanced and shrugged his shoulders indifferently. Sighing, J.T. thought of what to do to make him tranquil.

“Your friend’s fine. Seems like the blood loss made him a bit drowsy is all. He’ll probably be okay,” she lied, knowing that if he really did pass out from blood loss, there was nothing good in store for him to come. Akaashi saw through her lies, and persisted with waking him from his slumber. When she eyed Charlie moving from his spot, she put a hand up to halt his actions and drew out her pistol from the inside of her coat. Crouching down in front of the panicked victim, she pulled down the safety so he could hear and aimed it at the right side of his chest. The cold material met his warm chest, so he could feel it piercing past his shirt, shocking him instantly.

“Feel that?” she whispered out cautiously, “This here’s a _gun_. We may not be able to kill you, but we can chop off a limb or two, shoot a few holes in here and there, so long as you’re still breathing. You’ll live, but will you be able to endure the pain, mentally _and_ physically? Should we test it? What do you think?” she threatened, pushing the gun in further. She watched his Adam's apple go up and then down, and he gently shook his head. “That’s what I thought.”

-

**Saturday morning**

Kuroo’s black suit and tie fit snugly around his body. His formal attire allowed him to look like a federal agent of the US government, and he certainly knew how to play the part; with his prepared questions in mind, Kuroo took a determined step forward and knocked on the door, which was covered in silly signs and photographic mementos of the two residents. One was a tall, thin silver haired boy and the other was a short orange haired boy.

The taller of the two residents opened the door, and Kuroo’s eyes widened slightly when he saw just how tall he really was.

“Uh, hi?” he greeted.

“I’m looking for a Shouyou Hinata, does he live here?” Kuroo asked while showing his false badge as proof of his authority. “I just need to ask a few questions, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Oh, sure, come in,” he pulled the door open wider and welcomed the visitor in. Kuroo eyed his messy hair and raised an eyebrow at the questionable pyjama pants; white and patterned with rainbows, his blue top was ripped and clearly too small for him and to top it all off, he wore mismatched socks.

“What’s your name?”

“Lev.”

“Are you in school?” Kuroo inquired.

“Yeah, first year university,” he responded. _‘Ah, now I understand the uncleanliness.’_ “I’ll go get Shouyou.” Kuroo nodded in accordance and made himself comfortable on the worn out couch, patiently waiting when he heard scrambling in the adjacent room. Soon enough, the small male popped out around the corner apprehensively. Kuroo stood to shake his hand, taking note of the uncertainty in the boy’s posture.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Agent Ren Matsumoto. I just have a few questions about the unfortunate incident you were involved in about four months ago.”

“I’ve already spoken to the police. Why am I being questioned again four months later?” he criticized.

“We may have some new leads and just need to revisit our previous knowledge. Now then, what can you tell me about the day you were kidnapped?” Kuroo began, opening his notebook to record the conversation.

“...It was late at night, around 11 p.m.. I was walking home with my sister-”

“What’s her name?”

“Natsu. We were walking on Rosen Avenue-”

“Why were you out?”

“We sometimes went out at night to this one ice cream shop that stays open 24/7. These- these people, came out of nowhere and… hit me, I tried to fight back, told Natsu to run, and I think they knocked me out because the next thing I remember was waking up in a dark room,” he hesitantly concluded, his bottom lip quivered and he seemed to have trouble swallowing. Fidgeting with the end of his gym shorts, Hinata stared at his feet and waited for the next question.

“Why didn’t they take your sister?”

“I have no idea, Officer,” he stated truthfully. “I’m just glad they didn’t.”

“Of course. Now, can you think of any reason why someone might want to hurt you? Any enemies?”

“No, sir, none. I have lots of friends, no enemies. At least, none that I can think of.”

“Do you recall how many people attacked you?”

“Maybe… three? Or four.”

“And did you ever suspect anything, did you ever feel like you were being watched, prior to the kidnapping?”

“No. I didn’t.”

“Do you remember seeing any facial features, clothing, heights, anything that may help?”

“No, they all wore black ski masks and black clothing. They were kind of tall, but honestly I don’t remember any details,” Hinata responded.

“I know this will be difficult, but I need as many details as you can give about your time spent with the kidnappers. What did the location look like, were there any other people, what did the other kidnappers look like, et cetera.”

“Uh, I think we were underground, because there was no sunlight, no windows. It had concrete walls and a concrete ceiling, and it was pretty big. There were some ‘jail cell’ looking things, and there were other victims. Most, m- most of the attackers carried guns,” Hinata inhaled and trembled slightly before continuing, “one of them used a rope-whip thing. They always wore masks on their faces, there must have been at least 15 or 20 kidnappers and-” Hinata’s breath hitched as he thought and his mouth grew drier and drier with each word he spoke. His shoulders tensed and he felt weak under the officer’s gaze.

“Take your time. I understand how hard this must be.”

“If anyone tried to escape, they were killed on the spot, usually pummeled to death. They rarely actually used their guns. They lined us up and had a few, well, I guess they were doctors or something, they would do stuff like check our temperature and weight. Then they would- they would-” Hinata choked and gripped his stomach and just like that, the waterfall began. Lev heard the tears being choked back from his room and peeked around the corner to glance upon the situation. He took a glass of water and a tissue box to his friend and placed himself by his side for comfort, and the trio waited for the tears to die down before moving forward.

“What happened next?” Kuroo softly queried.

“They would take a few people to an isolated room with some of the surgeons, and…”

“Harvest their organs?” Kuroo finished off. Hinata nodded solemnly. “But they didn’t take any of yours?”

“No… but they did do this,” he sat up straight and lifted his shirt to reveal the slow healing scars covering his midsection, and Kuroo held back a gasp. Dropping his shirt, Hinata sighed and blew his nose into a tissue.

“How is it you knew what they were doing, if they didn’t do it to you?”

“Sometimes we heard them talking about organs and buyers, and once I caught a glimpse of some of the bodies, the ones that didn’t make it were piled in a certain room and I could see all the blood and scars on their bodies. I don’t know what happened to the ones that survived…”

“One last question,” Kuroo informed, “how did you escape?”

“Oh… that. Some of us were being moved in a small truck, I don’t know where. I don’t exactly know what happened, but there was a crash, the doors were damaged and a few of us managed to force it open. The attackers in the front chased after us and shot and killed everyone…”

“Except for you.”

“Except for me,” he confirmed with a nodd. “I still have no idea where I was, I didn’t recognize the location at all, but I- I just kept running. Until Officer Kageyama found me.”

“Well, thank you for your time, and if you remember anything else, you can contact me at any time at this number,” Kuroo said, handing him a business card. He stood and shook their hands and made his way for the front door, thinking over the conversation.

“Agent, I remembered something else, but I don’t know if it would be of any use…”

“What is it?” he turned back to face him.

“One of the attackers, he had a weird looking black snake tattoo on his right arm.”

“Thanks again,” he nodded with a wave. Kuroo phoned Bokuto while waiting for the elevator, and left him a voice message when there was no response.

-

When he walked into the serene building, Bokuto sustained a confident posture and observed the discreet murmurs between the elderly and the employees. Marching up to the receptionist, he reached into his coat pocket and grinned at the young woman on the other side of the desk.

“Hi, Agent John Nakamura, I need to speak with one of the women residing here,” he declared, presenting his fake ID.

“Can I ask why a federal agent wants to talk to one of our residents?”

“I’m looking for Niko Akaashi, I just have to ask her a few questions,” he assured. The lady, whose name appeared on her nametag to be Josephine, probably in her early 20’s, looked Bokuto up and down quickly and he could have _sworn_ he saw her cheeks turn rosy pink before she looked down to her computer, searching for Niko’s current whereabouts. Pushing her large round glasses up, he watched as her delicate fingers slid some of her short brown hair behind her left ear, and she continued to type away.

“She’s scheduled for rec room 2 right now. It’s down the hall, to the-” she cut herself off when she looked back up to see his bright golden eyes staring at her, waiting for her instruction, “Well, I could show you,” she smiled softly.

“Thanks,” he gazed at Josephine's short figure and the white flowery dress that captured her plump round body perfectly, and he thought to himself, _‘She’s really cute.’_

When they arrived at the rec room, Josephine examined the room for Niko, and found her playing a board game with a man.

“That’s her over there, by the window with the man,” she pointed.

“Thanks for your help, Josephine,” Bokuto winked and chuckled internally when he observed her cheeks turn pink again. She nodded and walked away nervously, leaving Bokuto to do his job.

“Excuse me, ma’am? Are you Niko Akaashi?” he inquired with a light tap on her shoulder.

“Yes, I am. Who’s asking?”

“Federal Agent John Nakamura.”

“ _Agent?_ Aren’t you a little _young_?” she questioned suspiciously.

“That’s very kind. I just have a couple of questions, if you don’t mind coming with me-”

“But I’m in the middle of a game, and I’m _winning_!” she exclaimed, pointing to the game in front of her.

“Ma’am, it’s a very important matter-”

“Are you saying my game isn’t an important matter?”

“No, I-”

“Then you’ll just have to wait,” she stated, turning back to the game.

“People’s lives are at stake, I just-”

“Oh, please. You young people are always in a rush. People’s lives are _always_ at stake. You know what’s at stake for me if I back out right now?”

“...”

“Well?” she faced him again, expecting a response.

“Uhm, no, ma’am.”

“My undying _pride,_ ” she smirked. With that, she moved forward with her play, and Bokuto was left astonished. He was _not_ expecting that kind of reaction, but he also knew he couldn’t just wait around for her game to end. Leaning down to her ear, Bokuto whispered, “It’s about your brother.”

-

“What do you need to know?”

“When was the last time you spoke to Hirohito?” he began.

“I haven’t spoken to him since we were kids, haven’t seen him since he moved from Japan.”

“And how long ago exactly did he move from Japan?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure. The year’s 2010, so…”

“Ma’am, the year is _2020_ ,” Bokuto interrupted to correct her, vividly confused before remembering her illness.

“2020? My gods, is it really? It must be about 40 years, then.”

“Do you know where he moved to, and why?”

“No, and no. We grew apart, I don’t know anything about him, really.”

“So… you don’t know if he’s even alive?”

“Oh, he’s definitely alive,” she ratified.

“How can you be sure?”

“I just know. He had always been very motivated, always said that even death itself couldn’t kill him. Also, I would think if he were dead, I would get some sort of notice of his will, or _something_.”

“Do you know what he does for work? Or if he has family, apart from you?”

“Not precisely. I know he doesn’t get his money the… ‘traditional’ way. I’m not sure about family, because like I said, I haven’t seen him for a very long time.”

“How do you know he doesn’t get his money ‘the traditional way’?” he questioned.

“Because when we were in school, he used to deal drugs. Even when my family disowned him for it, kicked him out, he didn’t stop. I kept a close eye on him, up until he left the country, and he was always up to something dirty,” she watched him continue scribbling down in his notepad, and grew distrustful about his reasons for the visit. “What’s this about, why are you asking about my brother?”

“... We think he may be involved in some crimes here in the U.S.. Since you haven’t seen him in so long, does that mean he’s never met your son? Does your son know anything about your brother?”

“My son? No, they have never met. I don’t think Keiji even knows he _has_ an uncle.”

“I see. Well, that’ll be all. Thanks for your help, and if you remember anything else, you can call me at his number,” he concluded, giving her a business card. Niko leaned back in her chair and exhaled, feeling relieved that the interrogation was over.

As he walked out of the building, Bokuto waved goodbye to Josephine before checking his phone. _‘Still no response? Maybe I should text him again…’_

**To: Keiji <3 9:38 a.m.**

**hey, u ok??**

Bokuto then pressed the phone to his ear as he let the recent voice message from Kuroo play through. Once it finished, he called Kuroo back to update one another on their findings.

“Hey, how’d it go with Hinata? … Hold- hold up, can’t hear you too well. Meet back at the motel- ok- ok, bye.”

-

Akaashi’s butt was sore and his core ached. Sitting on a flat metal floor leaned against a metal wall was proving to be an impeccable annoyance, not to mention the constant turbulence which only added to his list of troubles. José still appeared to be unconscious or asleep, but Akaashi was tranquil when he could feel his body moving up and down at a steady pace, signifying his quiet breathing. He zoned out here and there, as the group of riders spoke mostly about insignificant matters, which in turn allowed for Akaashi to think of a plan. He had heard of people freeing themselves of handcuffs by dislocating their thumbs, and thought of trying it. The student slouched his back slightly forward to allow for more space for his hands, and tightly enclosed his left thumb in his fist. He tried flicking his wrist slowly a few times, but grew uneasy and soon backed out. He then attempted to squeeze his hand through, and much to his relief, he sensed the hole may have been large enough to fit his hand, but just barely. So, he tugged, and mumbled a curse when he felt the skin on the inside of his wrist scraping off. Akaashi was sure to not move his arm too much so the kidnappers would not notice, and after fidgeting with it for a good 10 minutes, his hand was forced through. Once he realized his success, he let out a gleeful sound, and froze when he understood what he had done. He sat, motionless as a cheetah preying upon a helpless target, and awaited his unfortunate fate. Had they heard him? The truck was silent and Akaashi swallowed in preparation for what was to come.

“What’d you just say?” Charlie asked. Akaashi was unsure if he was questioning him or not, so he sat, not moving a muscle and pretended he wasn’t there. The sound of heavy boots stomping against the metallic material resonated through the vehicle, growing louder with each step. Before Akaashi could resist, his mouth rag was harshly pulled off and a forceful grip on his chin and cheeks made itself present. A calloused thumb pressed into his soft cheek and Akaashi grunted softly, wincing at the sudden pain. His jaw was rotated to the left and right, as if he was being inspected. “Why are you so damn _loud_? Stop moving all the fucking time,” Charlie demanded.

“I-” Akaashi made an effort to defend himself, but it was immediately reciprocated with a violent shove to the wall behind him, to which the male victim trembled in fear, opting to keep his painful wails silent, before finding the courage to retort. “Fuck _all_ of you, you’re all going to _hell_!” Unfortunately for Akaashi, Charlie didn’t like this, and tightly gripped his black curls, pulling his head up and sliding José’s body off of Akaashi’s in the process. Balling his left hand into a fist, the larger man prepared to hit him square in the face, until he was interrupted.

“Leave the poor kid alone,” Mack bluntly stated. “What’s your deal, anyway? It’s like, every 20 minutes you need to hit someone. Relax, dude.”

“Tsk. Whatever.” With that, Charlie let him go, placed the soggy rag back in Akaashi’s mouth and made his way back to his spot.

-

He had endured so much in the last few hours, and was about to risk his life to escape. When the truck came to a final stop some time later, the doors soon opened and he heard three pairs of footsteps exit the back of the truck, their voices slowly fainted as they became busy with whatever they had to do. _‘It’s do or die. I’m sorry, José. I’ll be back for you.’_ With a swift movement, Akaashi’s arms swung to the front of his body and he ripped the rags off from his face. Squinting at the lighting in the building, the young male stood too fast for his brain to comprehend as his eyesight blackened for a moment. He thrusted his long legs forward, jumping off of the vehicle. Then, he felt a sharp pain shoot all throughout his chest. Although his mind was telling him to go, go, _go,_ his body was telling him otherwise; the injured rib forced him to fall to his knees, clutching his chest tightly. He whimpered as the inhales were nothing but pained efforts, but he was determined to run. Akaashi ran as fast as he could with one arm glued to his midsection, the blue lights strapped to the ceiling around him only spun in his mind as the path in front of him evolved into dancing blue waves of dizziness. Soon enough, he heard distinct shouting, but it only fueled his eagerness to flee even more. He didn’t know where he was going, but he pushed a broken glass door open and stumbled upon a darkened hallway which seemed to be never ending. Small white emergency lights decorated the floor, the ones that weren’t completely broken were dim or flickering, and with each heavy step forward, the dust that had been settling for an unknown amount of time picked up and flew into the air, worsening his current breathing state. The doors to his left and right were either locked or would not budge, and at this point, Akaashi’s luck had run out; Mack’s quick feet were behind him in no time.

“Please-” Akaashi begged, trying to force open a door before engaging in a coughing fit, the shock of seeing a large man chasing him in low lighting swarmed him and he felt helpless yet again. Mack had no intention of holding back, and threw himself at Akaashi’s weaker figure. The two fell to the ground barbarously, and poor Akaashi could do nothing but grip fistfuls of his shirt in frustration and misery, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get away. Nonetheless, his pulse raced, and he pushed and fought as much as he could against Mack’s hefty arm which kept him straddled to the ground. The two grunted and gasped as they wrestled, and just as he was beginning to get away, a hand tightened around his right ankle, pulling and dragging him.

“You’re not getting away!”

“Let me go- agh!” he argued and refused to give up, kicking and pulling his leg to free himself. Akaashi’s fingers tightened around the edge of an entrance to a room, but with one swell yank, his hands were forced to release the corner. Mack was getting fed up with the resistance, and brutally slid Akaashi’s body back before tightening one hand around his neck and the other held his flailing arms by the wrists to his back. He shoved him to his feet and rapidly released the hold on his neck to replace it with a knife to the front, ceasing the movements.

“You- you won’t kill me. You _need_ me, right? You _can’t_ kill me,” Akaashi spat out.

“True. Doesn’t mean I can’t leave a few marks, like this one,” he threatened, slicing through the cotton shirt to reach his soft skin slowly just below the collarbone. Akaashi winced and gritted his teeth in the process. “Now, are you gonna come _peacefully_ , or are we gonna have another problem?” he asked in his ear, just as Charlie and J.T. turned the corner to find them. Charlie looked as though he was about to blow a fuse as he marched over.

“What _happened_?!”

“It’s fine, I’ve got ‘im. Let’s go back,” Mack said with ease. “So wipe that look off of your face, ugly.”

“ _How_ did he _escape_?!”

“J.T.!” Mack called out, asking for assistance with the angry man. They walked Akaashi back to Vay and the driver in silence, one hand on his left arm, another on his right. Akaashi had soon come to accept that he could not escape them, at least not like this. He would have to do it sometime they weren’t around so that he had time to move at a pace that his injury would allow.

So, Akaashi’s next step was to understand the layout of his current location. Observing the empty space which surrounded him, he assumed it to be some sort of underground parking area, but much smaller than the public ones. The bumpy and loose concrete below his feet helped prove this theory and if he squinted his eyes, Akaashi could somewhat make out fainted yellow parking lines to his left. The hallway he had fought Mack in had a tiled white floor, dirty yellow walls and white doors. An idea popped in his head, but he denied it when he couldn’t make sense of it. _‘Where **am** I?’_

“Ah, how kind of you to join us,” Vay spoke to Akaashi. “Thank you, Mack. Keiji, look who woke up! Your friend isn’t looking too good, but he’s alive. Isn’t that great?” she teased. It was true; José was awake and upright, but he looked light headed and sleepy as his head swayed from side to side and his legs seemed to just barely keep him standing. His arm was completely caked in dried blood from his deep wound, and Akaashi worried for his friend. Mack and J.T. loosened their hands from Akaashi’s arms, to which he took advantage of and sped over to José’s side, ignoring the pulsating swollen rib.

“José? I’m here,” he assured in a quiet tone. He was blindfolded once again and handcuffed even tighter, and they walked up some stairs and through some hallways, left and right they went until Akaashi’s sense of orientation was left in confusion. Eventually they stopped, Akaashi and José were pushed into a room, the cuffs were removed and they heard the door close. After a few minutes, the two began moving and startled each other. They removed their rags which once limited them, and dropped to the floor.

“Are you okay?” the younger male whispered in the darkness.

“Keiji? I’m okay… just tired, and sore. What about you?”

“I’m… I’m okay… I think they’re gone, for now.”

“Where _are_ we?” José pondered, feeling the ground around him.

“I’m not sure…” Akaashi began to explore, bumping his head on a shelf above him. The space was small, maybe one meter in width and there were some miscellaneous objects on the floor. The lack of windows drowned any hopes they may have had for escaping, and Akaashi could hear two voices on the other side of the door. “I think we’re in a janitor’s closet, or something. How’s your wound?”

“It hurts. How’s your rib? I saw that beating the big guy gave you in the car.”

“Ah, yeah…”

“... We need to break out. What’s the plan?”

“Well,” he began, leaning against the cracked wall, “one thing’s for sure; we can’t fight them. Not only do they have weapons, they’ve got muscle. We need a diversion, or some other way of sneaking out. I doubt they have the key to the door, so it’s probably unlocked. Our problem right now is that there’s at least two of them right outside, so we’re being watched at all times. Also, we have no clue of where to go once we get out,” Akaashi thought aloud.

“... We can _maybe_ take one of them, if we work together. But we can’t take on two, so I guess we have to wait until there’s just one. But, then what?”

“I’ll ask to go to the bathroom; they can’t leave just one of us unsupervised, so they’ll take us both. Then, when we have a chance, you run one way, I’ll run the other.”

“And then..?”

“And then, we try to get to the bottom floor, I think that’s where we entered, so there’s gotta be an exit. And from there, well- we’ll see what to do from there if we make it that far…” Akaashi concluded, he fiddled with his hands and bit his bottom lip in anticipation. José swallowed nervously and nodded. “I don’t suppose you have your phone, do you?”

“No, they smashed it right after I called you at the bar… Sorry about that, by the way…” José apologized regretfully.

“It’s fine, at least we’re not alone,” Akaashi comforted honestly.

They sat silently for the next few hours, José dug his head into his arms which rested on his knees, while Akaashi leaned his head back against the wall, closed his eyes and attempted to rest his body before they had to take action. The time moved slowly in the cramped closet, and the tall bartender’s anxiety only heightened to a frightening level as he thought of the horrors that could await him. His headache he thought had passed a few days prior had returned once again and a tear threatened to fall, but he wiped it from the corner of his away just as fast as it appeared. He had nothing to pass the time except to sleep, but he dared not do so for fear of never waking up again, so instead, he anxiously picked at the peeling skin on his wrist, and prayed hatefully to an unkind god for ever creating the human species.

-

At age 21, Rajat Singh helped manage his family's small car repair shop. He had little interest in traditional education, and preferred ‘letting life go with the flow.’ He was a dedicated athlete, but his highschool triumphs didn’t prove to be as fruitful as his family had hoped; the lack of scouts and scholarship offers was a disappointment to them, yet he was intent on self-educating, and deterred from post-secondary expectations. He always found the western system of education to be strange and filled with an exceeding amount of pressure on young children, and frankly, it was boring to him. Luckily for Rajat, his family grew more lenient over the years, and agreed to support his journey in continuing the family business.

Unfortunately for him, coming out as gay at age 14 to a very traditional and religious family proved not as simple for them to look over. ‘It’s just a phase,’ they told him, ‘You _will_ marry a woman,’ they repeated again and again. To avoid all the verbal abuse and familial judgment, he forced himself to fake heterosexuality for nearly 6 years straight, and when he finally confirmed it yet again to his family at age 20, his father and three older siblings swore to him that ‘Allah will bring you to your senses one day!’ and that was that. He told himself to at least be grateful that his mother and younger brother accepted him.

January 18th, 2017; it was an icy winter night when Rajat found himself sitting alone in a bar, sipping his cream filled coffee slowly as he let the heat from the mug warm his chilled fingers. He wore a thick green winter coat and grey sweatpants; the black ragged snow boats were drenched and his toes had been numb for more than an hour. The burgundy aviator winter hat that covered his curly brown hair had been layered by a blanket of snow, and Rajat _almost_ regretted helping fix the car of someone who was stuck in the chilly parking lot.

He had been eyeing the young employee on the other side of the bar from his seat in the booth for some time, patiently deciding on whether or not he should make a move. Taking another bite of his cheese pizza, he observed as a woman and a man exited the warmth of the serene building and entered the freezing abyss that was the slow growing blizzard outside. They had been one of the few customers left in _Dominique’s Bar & Grill,_ and Rajat squinted his eyes tightly when a gust of chill wind swept through the building as the pair left. When he reopened his eyes, he nearly jumped out of his skin, seeing the bartender standing in front of his table with a raised eyebrow and a hand on his hip, a wet rag in the other.

“Can I help you?” the black haired bartender asked warily.

“Uh, what?” Rajat questioned, unsure of what to say.

“Don’t think I haven’t seen you glancing at me the whole time you’ve been here. What do you want?” he accused with a harsh tone.

“Nothing, I swear. I just thought you were kind of… pretty. Sorry if I creeped you out.”

“Oh- uh, um, well… thanks, I guess” he responded, sounding flustered. He seemed unprepared for the compliment, and fidgeted with his fingers.

“So… want some pizza?” he offered casually.

“What? I’m working,” he strictly reiterated, crossing his arms.

“Right, my bad,” Rajat apologized, looking around at the now empty building with doubt (save for the few employees seen relaxing in other booths). “The… blizzard is pretty bad out there, huh? You think it’ll be a quiet night?”

“Uh,” he uncrossed his arms, looking out the window at the dark night, “seems like it.”

“Well, I guess I should head out now, before it gets worse.”

“Oh, right… What about your pizza?” he pointed out.

Rajat looked at the man and hesitated before picking up a slice with a napkin, and offered it to him, “Wanna help me finish it?” Taking it in his hand, the bartender set the rag on the far end of the table and sat down on the cushioned booth. “I’m Rajat, what’s your name?”

“Keiji. Thank you, for your generosity.” _‘How polite.’_

“It’s nice to meet you, Keiji. Looks like it’ll be a long night, should we get to know each other a little better?”

With that, a relationship soon blossomed as the two got along famously. It would be a long time before it all began to go downhill, and an even longer time before Akaashi’s heart was caused to grow stone cold. Rajat was a kind soul, and had shown everlasting love during his short time with Akaashi.

However, when things turned for the worst and his family inched a hair too close to bankruptcy about 2 years ago and they couldn’t afford treatment for his ill older sister, Rajat was desperately and secretively forced to involve himself in the unthinkable; the black market.

-

“The mom doesn’t seem to know anything about where he is, and she apparently hasn’t seen Hirohito since they were kids,” Bokuto began, preparing his instant ramen noodles in the microwave.

“Did she-” Kuroo interrupted, glancing up from the papers in his hands to see Bokuto placing the styrofoam cup in the microwave, “Dude, you can’t microwave _styrofoam_ ,” he chuckled.

“What? Why not?”

“It or the plastic around it could _melt_ into your _food._ ”

“No way, bro.”

“Yeah, bro. Check the label.”

“That’s never happened to me before, bro.”

“Just check the label.”

“It says…” he rotated the cup in his hand as he searched for a warning label, “‘Not microwave safe.’”

“See? You gotta pour hot water in it,” Kuroo informed. “Did she say anything else?”

“Nah, apparently her son and brother have never even _met_.”

“Huh… Well, orange top said he might have been in an underground location, and he was totally lost when he escaped. There were about 15 kidnappers, from what he could count, all wore masks, lots of victims, all for illegal organ trade.”

“Shit, bro. So-” just as Bokuto was about to continue, he was abruptly cut off when Kuroo’s phone rang. Picking it up, he stared in wonder at the unknown phone number.

“Hello?” he answered. “Yes, Matsumoto speaking…” he recognized the higher pitched voice, and motioned with his right hand a short stature to illustrate to Bokuto who it was. “When did this happen? … Okay, alright… I’ll look into it immediately… We’ll do everything we can… Alright- yep, thanks… Bye.”

“What happened?” Bokuto inquired.

“Did Akaashi work at the bar last night?”

“Uh- yeah, he went in for a ‘small emergency.’ Why?”

“Hinata just called; Akaashi and his manager are missing.”

“ _What_?!” he exclaimed, setting his cup down on the counter.

“Yeah. Let’s go talk to the employees. And the uh cops are probably at the scene, so suit up.”

The car ride was filled with a tense air, and Bokuto’s mind was possessed by concern and anger. “How did Hinata know they’re missing?”

“He said the bartender working at the time texted one of his friends, uh- Oikawa? Because Akaashi stopped by and supposedly disappeared, along with the manager, so she texted the guy and he texted Akaashi’s roommate and the roommate is Hinata’s boyfriend, so he told Hinata. I think,” he concluded, trying to follow along with what he said.

When they arrived at the scene, the building was quite busy but the cop cars parked out front implied something had truly occurred. Bokuto made his way over to a hostess and politely asked her if she could show them where to find the person currently in charge.

“Janet? Some people have something to ask you,” she kindly mentioned to the old woman in the kitchen.

“Oh- yes? How can I help you?” she smiled, drying her hands off with a towel. Kuroo and Bokuto held up their fake IDs, and watched as her smile slowly faded. Walking them over to a quieter location, the two prepared for the questioning.

“We’re here looking into the disappearance from last night. Is there anything you can tell us?” Kuroo started.

“I already spoke with the police; I wasn’t here last night. ”

“We’re just doing a follow up. So, who was the person in charge of closing the building last night?” Bokuto continued.

“That would be the other manager; José.”

“Who else was working last night?”

“Oh, uhh, I’m not exactly sure. Let me check the schedule, it’s just on my phone,” she stated, pulling out her phone and placing her thin glasses on the bridge of her nose. “Hm… five servers, three hostesses, two chefs and two bartenders, including José.”

“And, they were all here until close?” Kuroo queried.

“Yes, they should have been.”

“We’re gonna need a list of all the names and addresses of those who were working last night,” Bokuto demanded.

“Also, we’ll need to see your security cameras.” The woman nodded and got straight to work. Bokuto gandered over to the bar and saw a man working, and wondered where the cops were.

“By the way, we saw the police cars parked out front… where..?” Bokuto gestured, looking around for the police.

“They went to the bartender, Savannah, to question her in the manager’s office. She was working last night. It’s towards the back, by the restrooms, up the stairs.”

“Alright, thank you,” Kuroo thanked, and turned to his partner. “I’ll check the security cams, you talk to the girl, see what she knows.” With that, they went their separate ways and Bokuto headed for the stairs. Opening the dark grey door, he saw the young girl he had met once before being questioned intimidatingly by two male cops.

“Who are you?” one of them asked. He clutched his identification and presented it to them.

“FBI, I’ll take it from here.” The two looked at each other, thanked the girl for her help, and left. Once they exited, Bokuto took a seat on an old wooden chair in front of Savannah, and awaited her question.

“Wait, aren’t you Keiji’s new friend?”

“Yeah.”

“I… didn’t know you worked for the government… Do you know what happened to him and my boss?”

“We’re still trying to figure that out. Now, why don’t you tell me what happened, from the moment your shift with…”

“José.”

“Right, José. If you could tell me as much as you know, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

“Um, my shift began at 10, it was a normal, busy night. He got a call at around 1:00-”

“Do you know who it was from?”

“No, but he said something came up and he would be back. He went into the back room and about 30 minutes later, Keiji showed up, saying José had called him in. He went to the back room and… that’s the last I heard from either of them,” she concluded.

“You couldn’t go check on them?”

“No, it was too busy and I was the only one working, so I couldn’t. I closed by 3 a.m., and when I finally checked the back, neither of them were there. I called them both, multiple times, but… no one answered. I assumed they had left, or something.”

“Where do you think they could have gone?”

“I don’t know; I checked the dumpster area behind the building, too. I didn’t see anything.”

“Are there security cameras for that area?”

“No, at least not from our building. But I’ve never seen any from the building next door, either.”

“I’m told you texted someone?”

“Yeah, well, first I called José’s wife and asked her if he was home, but she said no, so I… told her that he had gone to meet a friend. Then I called and texted Oikawa- I’m not sure if you remember him? You met briefly. He knows Keiji’s roommate; Kageyama, so I figured maybe he could ask if he was home.”

“And..?”

“He texted Oikawa back this morning, and Oikawa texted me saying he wasn’t home. Next thing I know, the cops are here asking all sorts of questions.”

“Were you worried?”

“Kind of? I didn’t think too much of it at the time, it was just kind of… puzzling, cause, they just left- without saying anything.”

“Why did you lie to José’s wife?”

“Well, she’s an old woman, I didn’t wanna worry her if it might have been nothing…”

“Hm… before he left, did José say anything or act strange?”

“Strange how?”

“Anything, was he fearful, or nervous?”

“No, nothing like that. He took the call in the back room, so I didn’t overhear anything, either. He was just… gone.”

“I see…”

“Although, there _is_ a camera in the back room, there’s no sound, but maybe that’ll help?” she suggested.

“Thanks for all your help. If you remember anything else, give me a call at this number.” They shook hands and exited the small room to get back to their duties, and Bokuto wondered what could have happened.

Bokuto grew more and more suspicious by the second, and tried to ignore the nagging question: _How_ was Keiji involved with this? He hated to think of the possible answer, to think that maybe Bokuto was wrong; was Keiji helping his uncle after all? Shaking his head, the fake agent looked for his partner, and prayed that he had better answers.

“So?” Kuroo began with his arms folded.

“Nada. Boss gets a call at around 1:00, doesn’t come back. Keiji comes half an hour later, doesn’t come back. What about you? Anything?”

“Not really; boss man was in the back on the phone for a bit, no clue what it was about, though. Opens the door, and… he doesn’t come back in. Then the kid comes in, starts looking for the boss man, goes out, and that’s it. So, maybe the kid _is_ working with him?”

“No, there’s no way, dude.”

“Bo, he tricked you, it’s fine. Let’s go check-”

“It doesn’t even make sense; why would he ask _me_ to drop him off, go _through_ the restaurant, where there are cameras, instead of _not_ telling me, and go through the back area, hidden from camera’s where the dumpster’s are? Why would he want me to know about it, if I told him I’m a cop?”

“Obviously, he must be smart, he planned it all, and didn’t want you to be suspicious of him, so he made himself seem like a victim.”

“Kuroo-”

“Bo-”

“Officers, am I interrupting?” a large blonde cop asked, with one of the previous officers standing next to her. She held a plastic bag in her right hand, and raised an eyebrow as she witnessed the growing tension between the two cops.

“Yes-” “No,” they replied simultaneously, turning to her.

“... Officer Mia Andersen. We found this,” she showed the plastic bag to them, holding two damaged phones.

“We believe it may belong to the missing victims,” the male cop added.

“Where’d you find it?” Kuroo asked.

“I’ll show you,” she gestured with her hand, leading them to the back door. The cramped room was a puzzle and the dim white lights suggested a lack of proper maintenance, the grey door leading outside was heavy and it squeaked, and Bokuto’s gut feeling told him that something horrendous had gone down.

“What’s with the chair?” Kuroo pointed to the small wooden seat once they had stepped out.

“Not sure, we found it there. One phone was under that blue dumpster, the other inside, on top of some trash bags.”

“Any idea of what happened here?” Bokuto pondered, searching the area for any other clues.

“Some sort of scuffle, presumably,” she responded, clearly stumped.

Kuroo marched over to the chair with his hands stuffed in his pockets as the officer continued to speak with Bokuto. Observing the old chair, he squinted his eyes when he spotted a small smear of dark red colour on the top, and bent down closer to confirm it. His mouth twitched and he went back to the pair who were chatting to share his newfound information. Taking a breath in, Kuroo mentally prepared what he was about to say.

“Well, _something_ happened. Looks like blood on the chair.”

“Hm. Y’know, I’m surprised the feds care,” Officer Andersen spoke honestly.

“Oh?” Kuroo questioned.

“Well, it’s _one_ missing’s person’s case, and it hasn’t even been a full day since it was reported.”

“Just following orders, ma’am,” Bokuto retorted.

“We think it may be connected to a string of kidnappings.”

“Huh. Anywho, we’re heading back to the station now. You boys come up with anything new, you let us know.”

“Will do,” Kuroo reassured, and they waved goodbye.

“So… What now?” Bokuto wondered.

“Let’s see… I’ve got about 10 employees to interrogate, and in the meantime, you can talk to Akaashi’s friends.”

“The friends?”

“Yeah, y’know, whoever was at the party last night. Maybe they’ll know something.”

Bokuto sighed, doubting Kuroo’s beliefs, but he knew he had to cross them off their list of possible suspects. They made their way over to the old 2003 silver _Toyota Corolla_ , and Kuroo breathed in the cool air as he took notice of the small scratches that were etched into the passenger door. He couldn’t recall how they made their way onto the vehicle, but soon ignored it as he recalled the vehicle did not belong to either of them. The smell of aging leather filled his nostrils as he turned the keys into the ignition and with a harsh grunt, the car came to life, and they drove away.

-

Bokuto’s cover had been somewhat blown at this point, but he knew he didn’t have the luxury of caring right now. He didn’t know how they all managed to get together, but Bokuto was grateful that the 13 boys were all in one place; it made his job _much_ easier. Instead of at Yamamoto’s house, this time they were all crammed into Nishinoya and Yaku’s dorm room. About five of them were squished on one bed and four more were on the other; the tall blonde one was seated on a chair that looked as though it were about to fall apart, two were on the floor, and a final boy was leaning against a desk. Bokuto mentally thanked Sugawara for opening the window, seeming to have the same feeling of claustrophobia. With the suffocating amount of testosterone and bodily heat in the air, Bokuto wiped the sweat from his forehead, took a seat on the only other chair, and thought of where to begin. Many of them were messing around, throwing pillows at each other or watching funny videos on their phones. One of them passed gas remarkably loudly, and the room erupted in laughter before they began tackling one another. Bokuto couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the sight; they were all in their early twenties, yet still found something as childish as _farts_ absolutely hilarious.

Just as he was about to join in on the fun, the agent’s thought process and movements were halted when he noticed the tall boy (whose name he forgot, so he nicknamed him ‘Glasses’) approach him.

“What are we here for?”

“Huh? Oh- right,” he cleared his throat and adjusted the tie around his neck. “Yo!” Bokuto called to grab their attention, but visibly failed. He attempted a second and a third time before getting up to catch their attention _physically_. Obviously, the group horseplaying around took this attempt as him joining in on the fun, and two of the boys mounted Bokuto, laughing ecstatically in the process.

Suga saw Tsukishima grow more and more irritated, and decided it was time for him to step in. He stepped onto the wobbly chair cautiously, and clapped in a pattern: **_CLAP, CLAP, CLAP CLAP CLAP!_** Four of them replied with the same pattern, and they continued to perform the action until all of them, including Bokuto, were watching the silver haired boy attentively.

“Alrighty then, as you know, we were all gathered here, for- well, uh, I actually don’t know, but Bokuto said it was important, so here we are,” he finished with his hands on his hips. Kageyama raised his hand from his spot on the floor, patiently waiting to be called on. Suga nodded, signaling him to speak.

“Aren’t we missing someone?”

“What? No… I think we’re all here-”

“No, he’s right for once; Keiji isn’t here,” Oikawa replied from the desk without looking up from his phone. All heads simultaneously turned in search for said boy, wondering why he was the only one not present. Bokuto stood up in front of them, eyeing Suga as he hopped off of the chair.

“That’s why I’m here; he’s missing.” Bokuto should have worded it better, because now all the voices in the room rose at an alarming rate, and his single voice was drowned in a sea of shouts and unanswered questions.

“ **HEY!** ” a voice boomed from the desk adjacent to him; Iwaizumi stood next to Oikawa, trying to retake control of the group. All the voices quieted down once again, and the brown haired man gestured to Bokuto.

“I know you guys have a lot of questions, but-”

“What do you mean he’s _missing_?”

“Where did he go?!”

“Why are you wearing a suit?”

“... I’m actually FBI,” he swiftly opened and closed the ID, hoping none of them caught a glimpse of his fake name, “he went missing last night-”

“FBI?” Hinata gasped.

“Weren’t you the last one to see him? You two left together, so what happened?” Ennoshita questioned suspiciously.

“He said he got an emergency call for work, so I dropped him off. What happened after that, we’re still trying to figure out. Do you guys know if he has any family?” he queried, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, a mom,” Oikawa answered lazily.

“She doesn’t have a partner? Or siblings?”

“Not that I know of,” Inuoka replied.

“Well, he had a dad, but he passed away years ago. I don’t think Niko has any siblings-”

“I think he mentioned an uncle or an aunt once, but I really don’t remember,” Kageyama cut in.

“Where does he usually go after work?” he inquired next.

“Home,” multiple of them announced simultaneously.

“Oh, you guys seem quite- sure, of that…?” he answered unsurely, not expecting the strong agreement amongst them.

“Yeah, cause Keiji doesn’t like fun stuff.”

“Yes he does, he just prioritizes; rest and homework before fun. Maybe you could learn from him, Nishinoya,” Tsukishima teased. This won him a growl from Nishinoya, who was cornered on a bed.

“Okay… Did he seem strange or nervous, the days before he disappeared?”

“He’s always strange.”

“He was pretty nervous, though.”

“Oh, he was _totally_ agitated,” Suga confirmed.

“Really? Why?” Bokuto asked eagerly.

“Mainly because of midterms.”

“Well, that and… _you_ ,” Oikawa stated, staring at him directly.

“Me…?”

“Yeah, he’s completely head-over-heels for ya,” he continued, but was abruptly stopped by Iwaizumi, who lightly bumped his shoulder.

“Uh- wow… I mean- that’s not the answer I was looking for,” Bokuto recovered.

“This was fun, but can we go now? I’ve got a thing.”

“I just have a few more questions-”

“Oh, come _on_. He’s not _really_ missing, he’s probably just with his mom or something. Probably finally had a breakdown from all the stress he puts up with.”

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi began.

“Wait, so he’s _not_ missing?” Yaku pondered.

“ _Yes,_ he _is,_ ” Bokuto pressed on, standing in front of Oikawa as he moved to exit the room. Oikawa raised an eyebrow in annoyance, and Bokuto flipped through his notes before reading them off.

“Saturday, September 26th, 1:42 a.m. he walks into work. 3:03 a.m. the bar closes, still no sign of Akaashi or his manager. 3:12 a.m Savannah, a bartender that works with Akaashi, calls her manager’s wife, and calls and texts Oikawa asking his whereabouts, to which Oikawa says he doesn’t know, but he’ll ask Kageyama. By the way, Kageyama, I thought you were at the party, too? So, why didn’t you reply until the next morning?”

“I was, Hinata and I went home soon after you guys left.”

“Why?”

“We hadn’t planned on staying the night at Yamamoto’s in the first place.”

“Hm. Anyway, 6:08 a.m., Kageyama replies, saying Akaashi wasn’t home. 7:43 a.m. Oikawa transfers the message to Savannah. 9:12 a.m., the cops are called to the bar. I showed up there at around 10 a.m.. Meanwhile, there’s absolutely _no_ answer from Akaashi’s phone. In fact, any call you try to make goes straight to voicemail. So, you tell me; is Akaashi the type of person to just disappear, without a trace? Has he done this before?” Bokuto inquired the room full of students, but focused on Oikawa. They were speechless with the new information and they all felt the weight of concern flourishing, spreading and worsening.

“No…” Oikawa whispered out. Hinata’s heart pounded in his chest; he was slowly being reminded of all sorts of terrors, and wanted to leave the room as soon as possible. _‘In and out. In and out,’_ he thought to himself as he breathed as calmly as he could, but his train of thought was broken when he sensed Kageyama’s elbow touching his. He soon recollected where he was, and saw he was not alone. Swallowing back his fears, Hinata spoke, “Do you work with that other guy?” All heads turned to him in curiosity.

“What other guy?”

“Who?” Kageyama asked.

“Agent Matsumoto, he came and questioned me early this morning…”

“ _What?_ Without me there? Were you okay? What did he-”

“Kageyama, shush, I was fine, and Lev was there,” he comforted. Although Kageyama was relieved to know he wasn’t alone, he sent a nasty glare over to the Russian roommate, clearly upset that he didn’t inform him.

“Oh- uh,” he wasn’t prepared for that question, and debated on whether or not he should confirm. “Matsumoto? Yeah, he’s another FBI worker.”

“How come you didn’t tell us you were FBI?” Yamaguchi quietly pitched in.

“Actually, he told me he’s a cop,” Suga countered.

“Well, anyway, if you guys have any more information that could be useful, let me know,” Bokuto finalized, smiling when they all nodded to him. “Thanks, dudes.”

-

Akaashi wondered how José could possibly sleep in the current situation. His light snoring was the only sound he could hear, as the conversation outside the room had died down a while ago. _‘Is this our chance?’_ His heart rate increased and he crawled over to the door, hesitating before tapping on it. Turning the knob silently, Akaashi tried to nudge it open, but flew back when a large weight settled against it, followed by a bang against the door.

“The fuck you think you’re doing?” Mack’s hoarse voice rang out, waking José from his slumber.

“N-nothing,” Akaashi said back, turning his head to José. José nodded for him to continue, which he timidly did. “I just… really have to use the bathroom…” Nothing was said or heard for the next couple of seconds, and just as Akaashi was about to sit back down, the door opened, nearly hitting his head. Two pairs of handcuffs were thrown in, and the door was shut yet again.

“Put these on, and don’t try anything funny this time,” he demanded from the other side.

“Wouldn’t dream of it…” Akaashi mumbled to himself, handing one pair to José. Two small clicks signified the secured cuffs, and they stood on their feet. “They’re on,” he blatantly stated. The door creaked open, revealing Mack’s large posture, hands firmly holding onto a gun.

Luckily for them, Mack _was_ in fact alone, and he didn’t ask them to put on the blindfolds, for the time being. José walked slowly, covering his aching shoulder. Every once in a while, Mack would shove him lightly with the barrel of the gun, to which Akaashi’s brows furrowed in anger. They walked in silence and anticipation, waiting for the right moment to make an escape.

As they moved, the bartender glanced around at the location; lights were just _barely_ hanging from the ceiling, broken and flickering. There were beds on wheels out in the hallways, trash littered the floor and many of the rooms surrounding them had curtains on the floor, accompanied by scattered papers and other miscellaneous materials. Akaashi’s eyes widened as he figured out where they were; a _hospital_. _‘Must be abandoned, by the looks of it…’_

“Are we… in a hospital?” he enquired, making eye contact with José.

“No talking.”

“What’d you guys mean when you said I’m a bargaining chip?” Akaashi knew he was risking his well being by not following their orders, but he just had to know. Mack left his question unanswered, much to Akaashi’s dismay.

Their time had run out; they reached the bathrooms, and the pair had no choice but to go in. They had not anticipated this part, yet went in regardless.

“Hurry up, I’ll wait out here,” the larger man ordered, leaning against the wall as he lit a cigarette.

The two weren’t sure if the restroom was still even functional; cobwebs and cracked mirrors, dust, dirt and darkness was all that occupied the space. They walked into stalls next to each other, and closed the doors behind them. Akaashi ducked down, waiting for José to do the same. Their voices were barely audible, and their nerves were skyrocketing.

“What happened?”

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi apologized.

“Me too, it’s really nerve wracking. What now?”

“Same plan; I’ll pretend my injury got worse, so I’ll fall. Then you make a run for it, and once he notices you’re gone, I’ll run, too. They need me, so they won’t kill me, probably. Just make sure you run as fast as you can, and find some stairs. Get to the basement level, hide somewhere outside if you can get there, and I’ll try-”

“Hey, let’s hurry it up, ladies!” Mack called out. The two scrambled to their feet, and Akaashi tried to flush the toilet with his foot, but the old mechanism only let out a draining sound, and bubbled slightly. Opening the doors, the two glanced at each other once more, and walked out as confidently as they could.

He had been fiddling with his hands nervously for too long, and nearly forgot about the plan, had it not been for José, who cleared his throat. His breath hitched and his heart paced, and without a second thought, Akaashi fell to the floor, clutching his rib.

“Oh GOD, it hurts so bad, it hurts!” he cried aloud with his eyes shut, rolling on the dirty tiles. Mack was quick to react; he crouched down and grabbed hold of Akaashi’s body, trying to stop his radical movements. Cracking an eyelid open, the injured 22 year old observed José running away, and awaited his turn to flee as he continued the act.

“Hey, stop _moving_ , damnit!” Mack struggled, and turned his head to see the small Argentinian man running with everything he could. He stood to take aim with his gun, but stumbled back when he turned back to see Akaashi speeding the other way, around a nearby corner. Mack’s anger grew, but he controlled it as he yelled out for his group.

“VAY, CHARLIE, J.T., RED, **THEY’RE ESCAPING!** ” He couldn’t decide which one to go after, but soon made up his mind.

He steadied his breath, closed one eye, and watched as the legs paced, one after the other. Just as the escapee was about to disappear behind a door, Mack took aim, and- **_BANG!_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So anyway, I can't believe it's already mid August.  
> Thank you for your patience and for reading!


End file.
